Mass Effect: A new past
by Bombsquad
Summary: A different history to Mass Effect in which Human technology develops along different lines than anything the Citadel knows...an Alternative History of Mass Effect.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Alright then folks, this is my first foray into story writing in the past...two years. Too much time spent on things that just weren't my cup of tea. So here I am, back again...**

**I don't own Mass Effect, nor do I own Supreme Ruler 2020 (The Technology inspiration) those belong to their perspective creators.**

**Well, on with my tentative return...enjoy.**

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Prologue: Unidentified Craft

2066, UEAF Base Bentwaters, State of England

The holoscreen was flickering again. That erratic, semi static that made the projected image waver just enough to annoy someone who was trying to read and wake someone who was trying to sleep. Which the projector managed to accomplish spectacularly. Commander Wayneright looked up from his reading tablet and sighed lightly he rubbed his eyes and looked at the digital clock on the wall, coming up on three am local time, standing ready as members of the ground alert flight was never fun. You had to spend your time on base, in the ready room, in gear and ready to leap to and race out to your fighters sitting charged, loaded and ready to go. Not something that you liked to do, but of course, being fighter pilot made it necessary. Wayneright grumbled and stood, looking at the other pilots. He was thankful that at least he wasn't on strip alert status, they rotated that, and it was only four unlucky souls at a time that had to sit in the cockpits of their F-204 Coyote fighters…waiting for a scramble order. One beautiful thing of the military was the 'hurry up and wait' attitude that you never seemed to shake.

Wayneright walked across the room and to the exit airlock. Moving through the chamber he stepped out onto the field, standing on the tarmac and looking at the night sky high above. With a slight shiver he thumbed the climate control on his thigh and felt the flight armor warm slowly against his skin. He enjoyed English weather as much as the next man from New Mexico…which was to say not at all. Wayneright walked along slowly passing a pair of Air Police walking the field, wearing the full Force Warrior armor that was mandated due to the 'conflict' that had cropped up recently. 'Conflict' being the rather tame name for the Brazilian and allied armies streaming north trying to take the oil reserves resting beneath the State of Venezuela. United Earth forces were in another shooting war…one that looked slightly bigger than the campaign ten years ago to consolidate the shattered governments of Europe and Russia into the United Earth States, perhaps not as massive as the thirty year long war that was still raging between China and India that had turned Southeast Asia into little more than a death zone. But it was a war, and the UES had been in enough that they knew how be prepared.

As he walked along the Tarmac he looked at the black forms of Coyote fighters sitting in neat rows, their angular wings dark beneath their camoflage netting. Wayneright walked slowly up to his and rested his hand on the underarmor of the lethal Areospace fighter. He let his fingers brush against the exterior and he smiled, it was his…

His adoration of the craft was broken by the dull whine of the first element of the strip alert fighters scrambling. Two of them roared down the main runway, electrostatic drives leaving a blue white glare behind them as the two craft leapt into the darkened sky, followed by dual forms of the second pair. Without thinking, Wayneright grabbed the cockpit ladder and pulled himself up, noticing the buzz of an 'Alert Scramble' order through his ear com. He pulled up the helmet sitting over his right shoulder and pulled it onto his head as he slid into the form fitting command couch, the cockpit already lowering into place as the neural links clicked in to synch his thoughts with his fighter. The controls inside the cockpit, even the display view screens on the interior of the armored cockpit were merely a backup. As the neural links initialized, he 'saw' through the fighter's sensors in ways that natural human eyes never could. Radio, radar, ladar, magnetometer, all of them flooded his mind and made his other senses unresponsive. He felt the power of the craft burn inside him, a miniature cold fusion reactor became his heart, the energy of a star fueling him. His skin was the outer hull, armored, shielded, and invisible to the naked eye. Such was the rush of being a fighter pilot in an F-204, you didn't control that craft, you WERE the craft. Wayneright noted the ground crew giving him the thumbs up as the rest of the squadron raced to their own craft, the lead ground controler began gesturing him to taxi forward as the mission briefing was uploaded into his mind.

_Unknown Object identified as heading southbound towards Scotland at moderate speed. Does not match known profiles, refuses to acknowledge air traffic controls. Consider hostile, currently imaged by two Zeus Orbital weapons platforms, positively targeted by battle group 91 in the North Sea and Ground based installations on Iceland. ETA to landfall over Scotland is three minutes. Squadron is to intercept and engage target. Force to land, if possible. Neutralize if necessary._

Wayneright sent confirmation to base command before turning onto the main strip, his wingman falling in beside him, reciving confirmation, the veteran pilot engaged his thrusters and the F-204 leapt into the sky, his transponder flashing 'Scorpion' to the rest of the squadron while his wingman flashed 'Black Widow', once as well. Squadron tradition whenever they launched with the possibility of going weapons hot. Wayenright climbed fast, almost vertically to gain altitude and with his 'eyes' peered about the sky, watching the rest of the squadron lifting off and falling into formation. He noted that the strip alert fighters were two miles above him, their elements split and giving overwatch to the base. The take offs were routine, and Wayneright let his mind examine the data being relayed real time of the unknown. It was a strange craft, manta ray style, flat, with large fins. It looked somewhat aerodynamic, but it wasn't human. The angles were just slightly off, just strange enough that he couldn't place them. His brain felt the tingle of inbound information again and he 'sensed' the new information.

_Weapons are free. Target has refused all hails and appears to have activated gravitic shielding and crude optical camouflage. Has drooped low over Northern Scotland and reducing speed. Target appears to be attempting to avoid detection. Target deemed a threat. Eliminate._

Wayneright confirmed and he turned the F-204 in a maneuver that would have snapped an F-22 Raptor in half fifty years before and his fighter dove towards the deck. The squadron maneuvered into an erratic formation, spaced out widely and at random altitudes, all linked by the squadron net and relaying information back and forth seamlessly. They knew the target, and they knew their capabilities. Wayneright didn't ask questions. He was a fighter pilot and if European Aerospace Command didn't want to engage it with Surface to Air batteries he was more than content to add another kill mark on his fighter. The squadron wove about, elements weaving as they moved across England and reached the Scottish border. Wayneright saw the first marker appear for the craft as the information from multiple sources was composited together and sent to his mind. Ground, air and orbital scanners tracked it, there was no way this craft could avoid detection, the former United Kingdom was one of the principle stepping stones between the North American and European portions of the United Earth States. Orbital defenses, Ground batteries, Fighter wings, airborne sensors, naval forces…their combined sensors could register objects the size of a coin in low orbit…and tell you the denomination. Trying to infilitrate the sensor bubble created by this massive amount of technology was ludicrous. But something had tried.

"Target is painted. Moving to intercept." Wayne right 'thought' to command. He brought his F-204 back somewhat in speed, matching the velocity of the target. He reflexively checked his systems as he closed. His cloak was engaged, he was invisible. His shields were up, he was protected. His nano-armor skin was optimal, and his optic camoflage was online. Internal systems were fully shielded. Ion Burst cannon was charged, rail-cannon was charged, and his twelve kinetic kill warheads were primed. All systems were green, and his squadron squawked green as well. 'Scorpion' brought his craft around in a lazy loop behind the target, no longer a pilot, he was now a weapon with a target to eliminate.

"Target registers no response to our closing." Scorpion thought, his sensor eyes focusing in on the craft, looking at the bright drive exhaust and the exterior camoflage. Thermal signature was non-existent, and gravimetric scanners were showing strange distortions…but otherwise the craft was blatantly visible, there was no optical camoflage to speak of, no cloaking, no sensor masking…nothing. Chinese, Brazilian and Indian forces all had primitve variants of standard UES technology, not good, but it made things challenging. This however, it was like it had never tried to deal with UES sensors…it seemed to think that it was invisible…not to mention it didn't know that twelve invisible birds of prey were following it, with weapons armed.

"I have optimal solution on the target, requesting weapons free and confirmation for elimination." Scorpion thought to command grimly. He felt slightly dirty…he was shooting someone in the back, not very sportsmanlike at all…

_Weapons free, Disable target. _Came the quick reply. Scorpion was a little embarrassed at his relief. He was a combat pilot after all, but he didn't like killing someone who was a complete sitting duck. A positive response from him, and his perceptions shifted, the sensors identified the drive signature, and he targeted it, selecting his Ion Burst cannon and closing to optimal engagement range. Still no response to his presence could be seen in the craft. Scorpion lazily closed the distance until he was ten kilometers behind and then fired a short burst from his weapons. The energy flash cut the distance in less time than an eye blink and the pair of drives on the craft both exploded as the stream of ion particles sliced through the armor plating around them. The craft sputtered and cart wheeled to one side, then flipped awkwardly over it's nose, the sudden maneuver causing it's forward speed to drop to almost nothing. Scorpion schewed his F-204 around the stricken craft, blazing by close enough that the turbulence from his invisible fighter rocked the crashing vehicle in the air as it seemed to drop very slowly towards the ground. Scorpion circled it, along with the rest of the Squadron, circling the vehicle as it crashed like vultures following a kill.

"Target is disabled. Appears to have crashed in a controlled manner. The propulsion systems are neutralized, but the rest of the craft is intact. Remaining on scene for recovery detail." Scorpion thought, his sensors probing the ground surrounding the craft and taking in as much data as possible for the ground response team. His brain checked the mission timer for a moment and noting that it had barely been ten minutes from the scramble order.

_Confirmed, forces en-route to recovery. Remain on station for ground support. _Was the reply to him without hesitation. Scorpion was a smart man, but something about this was beyond him. He just couldn't figure out what that something was though. But as his sensor eyes watched the craft, he couldn't help but wonder who was inside it and what they thought they could accomplish by trying to infiltrate the territory of the most technologically advanced nation on Earth, a nation that these days had a military that even China, Brazil, and India were afraid of…

"They've gotta be insane." Scorpion 'said' to his squadron and recived quick affirmatives from all of them. As the squadron circled, waited and watched…they had no clue about just what had been shot down and lay smoking in an English farm field.

UEA Base, Hereford, State of England.

"It's three in the fucking morning!" Came a grumbling curse from down the Armory. Special Forces Commandos they might be, nobody liked being drug out of their nice warm bed at three in the morning to get fully loaded up for a mission that was of the utmost urgency. It tended to elicit some grumbles, but the soldiers were getting geared up quickly and efficiently. Forty soldiers, all of them elite warriors, all of them combat veterans, and all of them enjoying some well deserved down time after spending time behind the lines in what remained of Iraq, Iran and Saudi Arabia after a good four years of warfare over free oil and religious ideology. The men and women in the room all knew how to fight and kill, and they'd all had their lives on the line. They were the bleeding edge of the United Earth Army.

But nobody likes to be woken up at three in the fucking morning.

"Let's go! We have orders to get loaded up into V-44's pronto people! Weapons, armor and ammo! Loaded for bear and ready to kill!" Captain Hall called loudly over the grumbles. Men and women strapped on nano-composite body armor, loaded pulse rifles and slipped capacitor clips into web gear. It was hurried, it was done sleepily, but it was all done properly, each man and woman checking their gear with as much ease as breathing in and out. Forty commandos with full gear was enough to overthrow a country, but getting loaded for bear to go out on a mission in rural England…it was ENGLAND for Christ's sake! There hadn't been a military action on English soil since the Europan forces had come streaming out of the Chunnel to try and crush the strongest ally the US had…and triggered the whole 'Final European Conflict'.

"First squad ready!" Came the call down the line as one group of troopers stood too, echoed quickly by second and third squads, finally fourth. Captain Hall checked the armor sensors and nodded, everyone was online, and they had been asleep ten minutes ago. First squad trotted out, the full body armor they wore light as a feather on them as they jogged out of the armory. Their armor mimicked the hazy weather and cement walls as they jogged towards the waiting VTOL Stork transport. They looked garish in the bright lights of Hereford at night, but in the field, their optical camo would make them ghosts in the wilderness. Something that seemed insane considering the amount of armor and firepower at the fingertips of these soldiers.

It was a fast move, the unit jogging up to the massive V-44 and up the rear deployment ramp. Normally sized for massive Exoskeleton clad assault forces, combat armor clad troopers jogging into the entrance seemed undersized for the opening and the deployment couches and harnesses along the walls. The Commandos were unfazed by the size and settled into the human sized jump seats and strapped in, delving into the onboard combat nets through their neural links and synching up for mission data. They were 'educated' on the surrounding terrain, weather conditions, population distributions, the F-204 intercept and the orbital track of the craft before it had been shot down. The network was already jumping with speculation being exchanged by the troops, all without words being spoken in the deafening interior of the V-44 as it lifted up on four propulsion pods and rocked into the air, leaving the perimeter of Hereford behind as the base began to spring into it's own alert.

Captain Hall strode down the line of commandos and noted them locking visors in place, sealing their armor and checking weapons reflexively. He noted the neural activity going back and forth, most of them jumping to the conclusion that whatever they were going to was…unearthly…

Hall couldn't blame them for reaching that conclusion, it was the first thing that sprang to mind as he'd received the alert warning. Unknown craft penetrating UES territory weren't that common an occurrence anymore except along the Amazon frontlines. Everywhere else was so well defended and scanned that you couldn't sneak a flea past sensors…and couldn't get a warhead past the shielding domes that protected most major UES cities. Hall flicked his neural link over to external sensors and looked around the exterior of the V-44 using it's own sensors giving him the effect of flying through the air as he walked along. Despite the firm feel of his boots daglocking to the deck, he shook his head slightly. It was a hard sensation to get used to, but it was something he had to do to prepare for mission. 'Seeing' the ground was habit for him before a fight. Without turning he began to issue orders over his link.

His mind brought up the imagery of the crash site and examined it in his mind, on reflex the area was sliced into a grid pattern, rotated in his mind's eye and broken down by topographic levels. His mind began placing waypoints on the map, and relaying it to his team. A circle began to develop with the downed craft in the center. First squad and second were to deploy along the perimeter of the field for area security, third was stationed on overwatch on a large rise in the ground to the south between the drop zone and the crash. Finally, fourth would be making the close assault on the target to secure it from it's pilots.

The team watched the mission layout being developed and accepted it readily. It was quick, dirty and direct, good to secure and take the position without too much fuss. It was only when the questions phase came up that things got interesting.

"Question sir, possible opposition?" Came from Lieutenant Simmons, leader of third squad. He was the quickest one since most of the detachment was thinking the same thing.

"Unknown, presume valid threat." Hall replied curtly as he adjusted his helmet and sealed it against the atmosphere, making it soundproof to the drone of the V-44. 'presume valid threat' was the common parlance for the UES Military but rarely used. Most of their technology was untouchable when set next to the average level of gear that the Chinese, Indians or Brazilians used, caution was a result of training, not a belief that their equipment could hurt UES forces. But the term 'valid threat' meant something that could kill them in the hands of the average person on the streets. Civilian small arms in the UES were considered 'valid threats' even though they were projectile firearms. The assault rifles and gear usually used by possible hostile nations were not normally given the same generosity. Nuclear weapons were rarely considered a 'valid threat' by UES strategic planners…to call a detected and intercepted craft a 'valid threat' said something about just what command thought might be on board. "Sir, is this alien?" Blurted Sergeant Meade from First team. The question sent a few chuckles up by the more cynical members of the unit, but the rest of the unit was deathly silent. They were all smart people, every one of them extremely well trained and well educated, 'dumb grunt' did not apply to a Special Forces Commando. Hall looked around and saw all the faceplates looking at him. The life signs overlaid on each of them in his mind's eye showed a slight peak in readings that indicated nervousness. It was a hard question to ask, and not one that you asked professionally. Over a century of popular culture and exposure to the concept of aliens…and it was nerve racking to be face to face with the concept of something tangible being confronted…

They were getting _nervous._ Hall knew that he had to take control and make sure that they didn't get jittery and start doubting their own abilities. Too many pop-culture icons involved aliens being invincible and overwhelmingly powerful capable of laying waste to the best that humanity could come up with.

"Unknown. That's what we're going to find out. Troopers, we are professionals, we're the best there is in small unit combat. Every one of you has faced combat, and every one of you is an elite warrior. You're members of the United Earth States Military. Our armies have faced off against some of the deadliest wars in history, our soldiers have emerged victorious, from Mexico, Panama, Venezuela, to Germany, France and Russia, we've emerged victorious from the most destructive conflicts in our history. You're members of the military that only fools dare cross. You're equipped with weapons that were unimaginable fifty years ago. You're trained better than the most dangerous warriors in history. If it's little green men, then we'll turn them into green paste." Hall said slowly over the audio link, letting the unit know just how confident he was in his words. He noted the vitals on his team drop slightly. Even when you were the best, ego stroking was a good way to restore confidence, especially when your commander knew just what buttons to press. He saw the nods and smiled behind his faceplate.

"Now that the codling is done boys and girls, are we ready to play soldier?" Hall asked with a cocky twinge to his words. The response of gauntlets and weapons being slapped against breastplates was echoed with the roar that came in unison from the throats of the team. Hall nodded and they rose up, marching back to the deployment lines on the sides of the V-44, eschewing the massive drop doors for the exoskeletons in the belly of the craft. Hall switched over to the external view and he saw the drop zone, the objective, and the IFF readings from the F-204 squadron circling overhead, two hovering on station near the downed craft while the rest made lazy arcs through the air high above.

As Hall made it to the deployment door, he formed up with Fourth team, the others each at their own doorway, all cracked open in unison and deployment lines droped as the V-44 circled over the drop zone. Hall disconnected from the transport's linkup and grabbed the deployment line, his Pulse Rifle auto-affixed to his chest plate as he removed his hands from it, and his gauntlets responded to grasp the high density line in a death-grip, letting him free rappel down it towards the peat below. He turned his head to look at the craft and saw that it was smoking in the darkness, but it wasn't on fire, nor was there a large gouge torn up through the field. That told him something all on it's own, the craft had been brought down, but it hadn't crashed. With the ground rapidly approaching, he landed on the soft peat and the nano-musculature of his combat armor absorbed the impact. He released the line and started jogging towards the rise in the ground. It would be hard to miss forty troopers fast roping from a hovering V-44, regardless of the optic camo and cloaking.

The team fanned out behind him, weapons ready, and their own eyes scanning for threats in addition to the numerous sensor feeds being relayed to them. The cascade of information being fed to the team was immense, from orbital satellites, the sensors of the F-204's, combined suit sensors, even the small baseball sized drones that the team launched from their armor were all woven together to give a degree of information that would have drowned the average combat soldier a century before. But they knew everything about the fight, from the thoughts of their team mates to the status of their support craft, to the weather and the terrain, the location of hostiles, the weapons they carried. These were force multipliers that made the advent of radio on the battlefield seem paltry in comparison.

"Fourth is on you sir." His team signaled as third reached the rise in the ground with him and dropped into firing positions. Pulse rifles and heavier infantry support weapons were trained on the craft as fourth team moved through third to prepare for it's close assault. First and second fanned out and formed two half circles, isolating the downed craft.

"Negative on possible hostiles, there is an opening on the side facing us though, probable entry point." Came the information from forth's sharpshooter, her weapon sight picture relayed in the teams information. Hall studied it as he ran and then dove into position behind a stone wall that had probably been there when Norman the Conqueror had first come to English soil. He peaked over the lip of the stones and examined the entry point. It was perfectly formed, roughly human sized, neat edges. It was clearly a controlled entry point, a hatch of some sort, and judging by it's recent entry, it was clearly an escape hatch of some sort. As Hall watched, something moved inside.

"I have movement." The sharpshooter said calmly, but Hall could sense the jump in vitals. She was clearly exited, and she wasn't alone. Even Hall felt his heart beat faster as he peered at the ship. Only through training could he keep himself from simply watching.

"Weapons tight. Fourth, move up, all others hold position, do not fire unless fired upon." Hall said curtly and rose up over the wall, moving across the young wheat in the field at a slow walk, Pulse rifle shouldered and the rest of fourth on either side of him, mirroring his motions. Everyone was tense, and Hall forced his hands to relax the stiff grip on his weapon. He knew that the unknown was what was getting to the team. They had access to an insane amount of tactical information, and yet they had no idea just what they were moving against. In the days of total immersion intelligence, linked neural networks and unified squad interfaces…the unknown was a dangerous and frightening thing.

"Let's find out what the hell is in this thing." Hall said aloud over the team link to fourth. He ordered two of the recon drones closer to the craft, letting their own multi-spectrum sensors probe the entrance as them moved closer. Whatever was inside was moving back from the entry, there was no tangible information gathered from it, just an indistinct form. Hall and his team reached the halfway point when the firing started. They were completely exposed in the field as a weapon of some kind began firing. As he dropped to the ground and aimed at the entry way, his network provided him with the possible intelligence on the opposing force.

_Man portable magnetic accelerator weapons firing a miniscule projectile. Make, model and munition are unknown. _Hall was informed by his suit's Battle AI. He hugged the ground, and watched the entry. He hadn't given the order to fire and decided instead to give them a chance.

"Cease fire and surrender!" Hall called out over the helmet comm, his voice amplified and filling the air with authority. The weapons fire abated for a moment, but no response came. Whoever was firing didn't want to be chatty.

"Fourth, close assault. Third, obstruction screen on the ground. First, Second, hold position." Hall ordered over his neural link and as one, fourth rose up, weapons fire filling the air from the ship as a series of smoke charges landed on the field. White phosphorus, ordinary smoke and tear gas filled the air, giving the unit cover as they quickly began to run across the field, weapons ready and laying down a pattern of covering fire into the smoke cloud. The sensors being fed into their minds gave the team perfect vision through the smoke, but the opponent wasn't so lucky. Instead, the weapons fire began to get erratic as the gas drifted over the downed craft. Hall was tempted to use a nerve gas charge to kill the occupants, but he restrained himself. They didn't have to take prisoners, but outright slaughter wasn't always the best thing to do with the unknown.

Fourth moved through the smoke and split into two elements as they moved through the opaque cloud. The weapons fire scythed through the air, whoever they were, they weren't giving up. The commandos formed up as a chevron, looking at the entry point, the generated image of the ship filling their minds as they gazed into the smoke. One of the recon drones darted forwards and they got their first close look at who was piloting the craft.

Or rather, _what._

It was almost human…but not. Humanoid, but shaped differently, bones out of place, musculature different, but that wasn't what you focused on. It was the head. Not exactly huge, but shaped strangely. Large eyes, wide mouth, two curled…tendrils? Whatever they were, they looked almost like a pair of horns. Three fingered hands…clutching a weapon of some kind. Hall stared for a moment, dumbfounded at the sight of the image that he was seeing. It was an alien, an honest to god, real _alien._ He could hear the odd gasps coming from his team, but he shook them off. He keyed the comm once more, this time, his voice came out of everyone in Fourth, loud and direct.

"Disarm now! Or we will use lethal force!" Hall commanded to the creature as it looked about in shock at the booming voice coming from the smoke. The creature paused and glanced around, it's large eyes seemed to blink and it shook it's head. It's weapon raised and it started firing again. That was all that Hall needed.

"Take! Take! Take!" Hall barked reflexively and Fourth team leapt into action. Half the team moved forward as the other half laid down suppressing fire on the hatch and tossed stun and flash grenades into it. The alien recoiled and Hall raised his weapon, the Pulse Rifle leapt to his shoulder and the sight picture settled over it's upper chest. Without hesitation Hall triggered a burst from his rifle and sent a pulse of phased energy sweeping through the creature's upper chest, neatly bisecting the flesh and sending a spray of ichor into the air as the arm supporting it's rifle flew away. A strange cry filled the air and the creature dropped. From inside, there were more cries. Hall and his half of the team covered the entry, the other element of the commandos stacked on the door and the lead Sergeant held his hand over the door, letting the gauntlet's sensors scan the interior of the ship.

"Breaching, target neutralized." Sergeant Brook called out aloud and his team moved through the entrance, weapons ready. Hall scanned the interior image of the craft as the first detachment moved in. Hall waited until the first five soldiers were in before he followed with his men, stepping over the immense pool of blood flooding from the dead hostile.

Dead _alien._

Hall's sensors took a capture of the alien and he examined the face in a conrner of his view as he moved into the ship. It was a face that seemed almost human in death. Pained, confused, and lifeless. The veteran commando shook off the feeling, but was disturbed by it on a much deeper level. This thing was a living breathing creature, or rather, had been one moments ago…and yet…it was not human. It was from another world.

"Contact." Sergeant Brook said calmly as the sound of weapons fire came from down the corridor of the ship. Hall looked up and ignored his emotions, there was a job to do. The internal map he was studying showed an 'L' shaped central corridor, the short half leading to the exit door, the longer half running the length of the ship. Brook's element was in the main passage, engaged with something at the arbitrary 'front' of the craft. Hall nodded and gave the command to sweep and clear the chambers on either side of the passage. He looked at the rounded hatches and the passage, it felt flowing…almost alive with so many rounded edges and the lack of sharp corners. It felt like an almost aquatic vessel, not a…spacecraft.

Hall looked around the corner and saw two more of the aliens cut down, both holding rifles and firing into Sergeant Brook's element. It was brutal and quick, it didn't seem like any of the creatures had on armor. Hall shook his head, whatever they were, the couldn't be soldiers, could they?

"Clear this ship, completely, and lock it down." Hall ordered and his team broke up, opening rooms and checking to see if there were anymore beings within it. The search was fast, and thorough. There was a cockpit, an engineering section, one sleeping chamber, one room that looked like a laboratory, and one that looked like a storage space. There were three tubes in the sleeping room, there were three dead aliens.

One firefight, and humanity knew it wasn't alone in the universe.


	2. Chapter 2

**I greatly apreceate the comments and reviews, it's good to know that my stories still get some interest after so long. I hope I continue to impress. On with the story.**

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2066, UEAF Base FrostKnight, State of Iceland.

Iceland…Iceland was not exactly the best place in the world that you could be stationed as a member of the UES Military. It was cold, it was isolated, but it was the safest place on the planet. Originally annexed by the North American Union at the beginning of the Great Collapse as a measure to ensure the security of the NAU's European Ally, Great Britain. The Annexation had been simple, not many people resisted the NAU's economic power, cheap goods, high standard of living, and access to energy and oil. The Icelandic people accepted the arrival of NAU forces and the economic prosperity they enjoyed when the rest of the world was sliding into economic collapse and poverty. They didn't bank on their island being turned into what was basically the largest military base in the world. Ringed by air defense batteries, sensor emplacements, air and naval bases, Iceland was transformed into one of the four legs of the air bridge between North America and the UK.

After the European War, Iceland's importance waned and lost it's status as a frontline staging area for B3 bombers, F-204 Coyote wings and a third of the NAU (and later UES) navy. But once you create an island fortress, it never loses it's importance. Though not nearly the hotbed it was even five years ago, Iceland still boasted three orbital launch bases, twelve airbases, six naval installations and almost three quarters of it's land area was devoted to military exercises...and those were the official instillations.

FrostKnight was not a facility that you could find on any map. It was primarily a research installation on par with the old Area 51 in the American southwest and it's cousin in the Canadian Arctic. FrostKnight had the benefit of being in a mostly unpopulated area, completely protected by orbital and aerospace defense batteries, defended by a massive amount of military power, it was considered one of the most secure positions in the entirety of the UES. So naturally, that's where you bring the UFO and the alien bodies. Which was why the C-225 Cossack was landing with a dull thud on the long camouflaged runway that stretched across the rocky Icelandic countryside. The massive craft dwarfed the old C-5 Galaxies, it was big enough to haul tanks and walkers, or battalions of paratroopers within it's massive confines. Right now the lone transport merely held an alien spacecraft, forty commandos and a trio of alien bodies. Not much at all.

Captain Hall and his troopers were still in their combat gear from the mission, defaulting to be the official 'escort' of this…prize… Hall's eyes drifted to the containers strapped to the deck, each one containing an alien body. His eyes were still filled with the creature's face, but he shook it off. Being the first human to kill an alien was not exactly an honor he had been looking for. But command had been understanding, and they'd been understandably unnerved when the mission data had been uploaded as an after action. There had been more than a little nervous concern over just what had transpierced, but in the end, the creatures had been given ample warning and had decided to ignore all challenges to their flight path. Hall's actions had been justified and there wouldn't be any disciplinary action. Hell, his unit was due for commendations more than likely.

But still…

Hall sighed behind his armor and noticed the element of third tasked to watch the bodies was watching him. He shrugged in his combat armor and the troopers went back to staring at the containers, not daring take any chances with an alien life form. Weapons killed them easily, but they wanted to make sure that these aliens stayed dead. Too many bad vids at late hours were at work there, but Hall couldn't fault caution.

He felt the jostle of the Cossack's landing on the strip. The commandos rose up in unison as Hall switched to external view, watching as the massive suborbital transport taxied across the desolate runway and then halted in what looked like an empty stretch of soil. It waited for a moment before the massive landing pad began to retract underground. Like a massive magic trick, the transport descended beneath the cloaking screen and vanished from sight, disappearing into the massive underground hangers of FrostKnight. Hall checked his weapon as the Cossack's crew chief left the cockpit level and checked the transported 'items'. Satisfied that the loading pallets holding the bodies and the craft were intact, he slowly walked to the rear hatch, settling at the rear access controls. The commandos formed up and the Cossack settled into one landing berth before the crew chief opened up the rear ramp, a massive egress point giving the team a view of the interior of FrostKnight. None of them knew what to expect, but they didn't expect to see a detachment of light infantry waiting for them, and the base's science detachment split between waiting to receive the aliens and their ship, and the rest rubbernecking.

Hall nodded and fourth moved the contragrav pallet down the ramp with the three alien bodies aboard. Third Followed with the weapons, while first and second pushed the ship along as easily as if they were pushing a shopping cart of groceries. Hall marched down the ramp and a full colonel met him with a salute that he returned crisply.

"Reporting with the materials sir." Hall said quietly as the commandos turned over control of the pallets to the base security forces. The Colonel nodded and motioned for the commandos to follow. They'd already gone through debrief over the neural network, but the science team wanted to examine things further and discuss the mission with the soldiers in person. Hall and his troops were more than willing to oblige as they disappeared into the labyrinthine facility beneath the Icelandic rock.

* * *

The room was not exactly dark. But it was dim, lit only by the light in the center of the room over the stainless steel table. There were two people in this room, each on the other side of the table. In front of one rested a holo tablet and writing stylus, and an ashtray with a single burning cigarette in it. A small curl of smoke rising into the air, giving the air a slight haze beneath the overhead light. On the other side of the table rested a reader tablet, but the person behind it wasn't seated in the light, his chair was pushed back, only his legs illuminated by the light.

The woman seated behind the holotablet and stylus reached out and plucked the cigarette up from the edge of the tray, holding it in her hand for a moment as she looked at the shadowed figure across from her. She shook her head and her short black hair shook slightly around her hard face. She didn't look like the kind of person who you'd like to be trapped in a sealed room with, let alone sitting across a table from, not with the expression on her face…that…that could only be described as predatory.

"They came…" The shadowed figure said quietly from it's place in the darkness. It was as if they were trying to remain hidden from the truth.

"Yes, they came, and they were detected and shot down. Then they resisted and were all killed." The woman said quietly, slowly inhaling the rich Tennessee tobacco. She smiled slightly at the declaration, as if she were proving a point made long ago.

"I don't understand. How could you?" The voice said, leaning forward slightly, the figure's face rested just outside the glare of the overhead light. The woman slowly tapped her holopad and smiled again.

"We told you, our weapons and technology aren't like yours. You can plan all you want for your foes, but you can't plan for what you don't know, can you Drazzic? Or didn't the STG teach you that?" The woman said, making the figure lunge forward and slap it's hands down on the table. It was one of the aliens that Hall and his commandos had killed hours before…or at least one of the same species. It's face wasn't contorted in death though, it was contorted in rage. The large mouth and eyes flared wide.

"I hate it when you try to provoke me researcher." Drazzic growled as he leaned over the table. The woman chuckled in response, the confident noise of someone who held all the cards, who held all the power.

"Ah, and yet after five years Drazzic, I still manage it, don't I?" She said coyly. Drazzic crossed his arms over his chest.

"Leave me in a box for five years with you and other humans simply asking question after question about me and everything I know? What do you expect? Your 'Stockholm syndrome'? I'm a member of the STG, we don't break like that. You'll always be my captor, I, your captive." Drazzic replied.

"True, but you've been very helpful despite that, now haven't you? Told us quite a bit about your people, your military…and your…friends."

"I can only pretend to be silent so long, and keeping me caged, without anything to do…I would have preferred torture to break up the monotony Cassandra." Drazzic replied. Cassandra chuckled softly.

"But that would have damaged such a promising specimen." She replied…her voice was light…but that predatory glint was still there, hard and hunting.

"I'm flattered." Drazzic said simply.

"You should be, you're still our only live specimen. We had hoped for more, but sadly, the Special Tasks Group refused to surrender when we shot them down, even after ample opportunity." Cassandra said simply, tapping off ashes into the tray.

"Why would they? They were looking for my scouting expedition. You shot us down then, you shot them down. STG won't send anyone else out this way, they'll believe that there is some kind of celestial phenomena that keeps eating up patrols exploring Mass Relays. Your planet is safe for now, isn't it?" Drazzic said simply.

"Safe? Relatively. Of course, once we get a chance to explore this Mass Relay network in it's entirety. Not to mention settling things with some aliens more…annoying than you…" Cassandra said idly.

"Unless the Citadel Council has reservations about letting you humans start poking around." Drazzic said sharply.

"Why would they Drazzic? Your people came poking around or planet without being invited. Ignored our rules and decided to explore our solar system. You got burned because you were exploring something you didn't have any right to. So just why were you so curious about Mars?" Cassandra said, repeating the one question that she'd never gotten an answer from Drazzic about in the five years she'd spent 'interrogating' him since he'd been captured in a crash. The Salarian had been very tight lipped about his ship's reconnaissance of Mars…and it's reconnaissance of Charon…

"Mars? Oh yes…Mars…" Drazzic said, feigning ignorance.

"Yes, Mars, a dead, lifeless world. What made your ship linger over that desert world for so long? Just what were you looking for? We have your second group's ship…and it was taken intact you know. Full archives intact." Cassandra said sharply, she registered the surprised look on the Salarian's face, but didn't respond to it. She knew she'd hit a nerve, perhaps the biggest nerve that she'd ever found. Drazzic knew that he wasn't entirely safe anymore.

"Full archives?" Drazzic asked quietly.

"Yes, full archive and after five years, your systems are as easily accessed as ours. So tell me…just what's so special about what you found on Mars?" Cassandra asked, leaning forward just enough to show interest. She was good, very good. She knew just how much interest to show, just how much difference, just the right mixture of emotion and expression. Five years of questioning the Salarian had given her just the right weapons to get the answers she wanted.

"Protheans." Drazzic said simply.

"Protheans?" Came the reply from Cassandra, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"Yes…Protheans, Prothean ruins to be specific, buried beneath the surface of Mars. We detected the drive core of a Prothean ship trying to activate when we did an over flight. It explains the Mass Relay we discovered as well."

"You discovered a Relay? Where?" Cassandra said quickly. Drazzic chuckled softly.

"Charon. It's a Mass Relay Cassandra, not a planet. How do you think we discovered your system? We were exploring to find it's twin link. Your species is very gifted Cassandra. Access to a Mass Relay and Prothean technology. Some great twist of divine fate. You probably don't even need them." Drazzic said grimly, leaning back into the shadows of his chair, the usual sign that the interview was over. Cassandra slowly stood, smashed the cigarette butt and walked from the room, not bothering to thank the alien, instead leaving him to his reader and his only escape, studying human history…something not exactly intended to make him feel better about his chances.

* * *

Captain Hall stood and watched the screen. His eyes fixated on the alien…the, Salarian…that's what they were called…Salarians… He glanced over at the woman who walked through the doorway into the viewing room. Captain hall looked at the slightly shocked expression on the woman's face at the sight of a fully armored Special Forces Commando standing there. Hall stood next to the Colonel who'd brought him here, still slightly dazed at seeing a living breathing alien speaking perfect English…

"Captain Hall, this is Doctor Cassandra Raven, head of Xenobiology here." The Colonel said professionally, looking at the viewer again as Dazzic lifted the reader pad and was escorted from the interrogation room. Dr Raven examined Hall for a moment and moved closer to shake his gauntleted hand.

"Captain Hall, I received the neural link of your engagement. I'm glad that Dazzic was telling the truth about his people's combat abilities. I would have hated to see your soldiers killed." She said professionally. Hall nodded quietly at the comment and shook his head slightly before speaking.

"How long have we…had one of them?" Hall asked quietly.

"We've had Dazzic since his ship crashed in the Canadian wilderness five years ago. It was taken down by a lightning storm, we're not quite sure how, but the electrical discharge wiped the ship's computer systems, so we're quite glad that you recovered this ship before the crew could delete their files." Dr. Raven answered.

"Why haven't we released this? Why didn't we release it five years ago?" Hall asked, a little dumbstruck by the revelation about things.

"And why didn't we talk about it a century ago? Politics Captain, things could get very unpleasant if we talked about the Salarians or the Reticulans. Right now we're in a shooting war with Brazil, tense with the Chinese and the Indians, all the while trying to consolidate our situation in Africa and the Middle East. Letting people know about this? Letting our enemies think we have alien technology that's superior to our own? It would be rather difficult to deal with." The Colonel supplied the answer as Dr. Raven walked over to the viewing panel and brought up an image of the Salarian ship they'd captured, being moved deeper into the facility.

"But, they don't have superior technology…" Hall said, watching the woman examine the image with almost clinical interest.

"For the most part? No. Their small arms and craft weapons are mostly technology that we stopped using in the 2040's before the Phased Energy Revolution. Shielding is gravity based, not Ion manipulation. They don't really possess anti-gravity technology. They have no AI's…or at least what we consider AI's. Even their FTL systems are different from what we're researching and testing. But, they do utilize a different form of energy production, FTL access, and they know of two things that we don't. The Protheans, and the Mass Relays." Dr. Raven said, not looking away from the screen. Hall stepped closer to the screen and looked at the image of the ship.

"If we know more than them…then why are we so excited about these admissions and this ship?" Hall asked.

"Information Hall. That ship has maps of their territory, maps of the galaxy, of the Mass Relays. More than likely, it contains a wealth of data on nearby star systems, possible sentient species, habitable worlds, resource rich systems, and most importantly, the 'common knowledge' that dear Dazzic didn't consider important enough to share. But things that we desperately need to know." Dr Raven replied, looking over at him with her green eyes. Hall could see the hunger in them, the desire to explore, discover, to know about this galaxy.

"We're fighting Brazil and the rest of South America in a full scale war. China and India can be just about as hostile if they chose to be. We've got enough problems here." Hall said flatly. Bravado was a great thing to have, especially in the elite forces, but when your home planet was already balkanized and fighting enough global wars…did you need to go looking for aliens to fight?

"Yes, of course, problems with three other nations who are falling apart and completely dependent on us for food, water, energy, consumer goods and raw materials. Their governments are on the edge of collapse. One war with the UES and they'll collapse, their people are already tired of conflict. The government is already planning for the UES to absorb China and India in the next ten to twenty years. Brazil and South America will be dealt with. There aren't any valid threats to UES sovereignty on Earth. The problem is that with the information we have, Earth threats aren't the only ones out there. We have undeniable proof of alien life exists, and without a doubt some of that alien life is hostile." Dr. Raven replied coldly. Hall sighed softly. He couldn't deny that the UES produced the world's food, oil, water and energy. Brazil was making a desperate grab for UES oil in Venezuela to forestall a complete collapse, the same way that India eyed the newly acquired UES middle east, and China aimed for the UES Siberian oil fields. Not that the UES needed fossil fuels with it's energy technology…but the 'have nots' always wanted what the 'haves' had. Hall knew how bloody World War Three could be if it flared up…not that there would be much difference between a full World War between the other three Superpowers and the UES Hyperpower.

Throw in the possibility of advanced alien technology…and things were going to get messy. There was no doubt that the Chinese or the Indians would get desperate if they thought they could seize ancient alien ruins on Mars that had working technology. Hall wasn't a simple man, but such a perceived advantage could make any opponent more reckless than they had any business being…and there would be a lot of dead bodies before the smoke cleared on that war. Hall knew what was next…

"You intend to seize them, don't you?" Hall said simply. Dr. Raven turned and looked at him, smiling slightly.

"Correct Captain. We have the technology to get there, we have motivation to. We even have a major Martian colony to stage from, along with our outposts in the Asteroid belt and on Titan, there's no reason for us to delay. We take the Prothean ruins, secure them against any infiltration, and we dispatch research vessels to Charon, It's a simple measure, no one has comparable technology to ours." Dr. Raven replied.

"Hall, your team is being transferred to the Chryse Colony on Mars to ensure security of the Prothean ruins." The Colonel said simply before turning and leaving the viewing room. Hall didn't even salute, he was too surprised, his unit wasn't standard, they'd just returned from the middle east…still in refit, and now they were being transferred off world to the Martian Colony, all in the space of a few hours. Hall rubbed his gauntleted hand over his forehead and sighed.

"Afraid of travel Captain?" Dr. Raven asked with a chuckle. She glanced over at the soldier before reaching up and manipulating the holo viewer, banishing the view of Drazzic and the interrogation room to replace it with the view of Mars, slowly orbiting in the air. Green and blue splashed over the red planet in several locations, most prominent was the colony of Chryse at Chryse Planitia. The capital of Mars boasted almost fifty thousand people and was the seat of government on Earth's sister world. Founded thirty years prior, the facility had been a United States research facility on Mars, not a true off-world colony. But ten years ago, a major change in UES policy towards the facility made the mars effort one of 'colonization' and not 'research'. That allowed a surprising influx of people from all walks of life in the UES to try to scrape together a life on a new frontier.

Though Mars didn't boast the almost 5 million colonists that resided in Luna's doomed facilities and installations…over a million people were on mars, and there were more flowing there as often as possible. Miners, colonists, researchers, industrialists, even people who were just filled with the hunger for something new colonized Mars under the auspices of expanding the frontiers of humanity…even if they were UES citizens and Mars was considered UES Territory. So far, the only other major space power, China, hadn't tried to do much more than send up a manned space station. Mars was UES, with a growing population and an actual economic base to support it.

Hall looked at it, more familiar with Mars in a strategic sense, understanding the dangers of having to fight any kind of conflict there more than understanding the civilian aspects of it. He knew that the UES kept almost two divisions of light infantry on mars, trained extensively for hazardous environment warfare…and he knew that UES Basic Training was going to begin including Hostile Environment Training in it's standard course of instruction within the next two years. Getting ready to prepare the average UES soldier to fight somewhere other than earth was a deeper testimony to humanity's dreams of colonizing other worlds than any science fiction or theoretical scientific theory. Hall looked at the layout of the Martian colonies, most of them were situated near resource deposits and known sources of raw materials. Chryse was the main colony though, it boasted the spaceport and had maglev links to the other colonies. It was also an industrial center, and research center. Hall looked at the smaller agricultural colonies that grew Martian food in hydroponics bays or terraformed soil beneath massive domes. Hall noticed something on the overview and spoke up.

"I never knew that all the colonies were in the northern hemisphere, or so close together." He said absently as the Martian projection spun slowly in the air. Most of the planet was empty without even military posts or research stations.

"Yes, there were plans for more dynamic growth, but with the Salarian…visit to the planet, we decided that we'd keep the colonists clustered together. Two divisions wasn't enough to spread over an entire planet. We didn't know what might happen if they had to watch all of Mars." Dr. Raven supplied.

"Worried about alien invaders?" Hall replied, hoping that his joke wouldn't get an answer.

"Among other things." Dr. Raven replied, but didn't glance over at Hall. Hall blinked hard, but looked back at the rotating holo as the Doctor's hand spun it slowly, then hit a few commands a rather precise grid pattern was laid over the surface, along with orbital tracts of a craft.

"Salarian?" Hall asked simply, surprised at how easily he used the name of an alien species he hadn't known existed hours ago. He rubbed his eyes gently and realized he needed coffee, he was too tired to be shocked by the almost casual nature of this conversation.

"Yes. It's the orbital track of Dazzic's ship. It was discounted as a sensor error, but once his ship was downed, we analyzed our data in comparison to his crew's ship and discovered this." Dr. Raven said, and pointed to a very dense cluster of over flights in the southern hemisphere of Mars, close to the Cydonia region. In fact, over the Cydonia region completely.

"Originally, NASA scanned this region over a century ago with automated probes. They photographed a 'face' and what looked like several structures. It was proven to be false, tricks of light and shadow on low resolution cameras. We never gave it much thought during colonization. It's hard enough to maintain a viable colony on a hostile world without exploring curiosities." Dr Raven said with a slight smile again. Hall looked at the image and didn't glance over at her.

"That was a mistake." Hall said simply.

"True. After Drazzic's people studied it, we had several satellite over flights of it, mapped the area in detail and even sent sub-orbital drone flyovers. The area has been thoroughly mapped. We never found anything there worth finding…" Dr Raven said looking at the scans as if new information would be forthcoming simply because after five years Dazzic broke down and told the truth. She sighed as she looked at the data…the same data she'd poured over constantly for years now…and saw nothing.

"Unless they concealed it." Hall said simply, looking at the screen with her for a moment before turning away and rubbing his neck.

"Who? The Protheans?" Dr Raven asked sharply.

"No…the Salarians. They make a big deal about the Protheans, their technology, their ruins, it's pretty significant to them, right?" Hall said, looking over his shoulder at her as he mentally ordered his armor to inject a stimm shot into his body.

"Of course." Raven said sounding slightly annoyed.

"And we had colonies on Mars at the time. So they might have wondered if we could have been capable of locating them with our sensors. If we were, then we'd see where they'd been, right? And they didn't seem to want us to find this stuff. They want it for themselves. So I say they laid a red herring. Set a decoy in case we looked at the data. Somewhere that we've always thought there was weird stuff, a location that if they said 'buried alien tech' we'd say, 'that explains everything' in response. So they chose a place to throw us off. Cydonia. I bet that it's pretty damn far away from there. So let's ignore that lovely target they made and look for something subtle." Hall said, turning back to the display and looking at the holo for a few moments, his eyes going over the tracks and watching them for the smallest…

"…there. Right there, I'd expect them to get surprised just like the rest of us living creatures, so they'd have made a secondary pass, but they're military, so they're disciplined. Right here, over…" Hall looked at the labels on the display.

"Promethei Planum…looks like a large area to cover though. Like searching the Mojave…let's narrow that down…" Hall said, and reached up, touching display commands and overlaying various information tracks. Dr. Raven looked at him as he worked, surprised at the ease at which the Commando took control of the situation and got results. Hall quickly overlaid the sensor information from the Martian satellite network and looked at the data. The full spectrum sensors had been scanning the region for years. On impulse, he took the data signature from the Salarian ship, expanded the variables on it…and entered in the sensor scan.

It took a few seconds for the data to come up, an intermittent pulse of energy and gravity fluctuations much like the Salarian drive, but not an exact copy, enough that one could think that the technology was similar, but not identical.

"Your Prothean ruins are buried beneath the Deseado Crater." Hall said simply, looking at the display. He'd done it reflexively, thinking, rationalizing, and discovering something that Dr. Raven hadn't managed in years.

"How did you…" She said, dumbstruck for a moment.

"Simple, you're a scientist, and I don't think Dazzic or his friends are scientists. Special Tasks Group? Those sound like soldiers, commandos, scouts. They're military beings…not all of them, but the ones who came here, they're soldiers. Soldiers think alike, no matter what species you are. They've got the mission to think of, and they have to ensure the security of that mission. So he deceived you. Didn't lie probably, but he deceived, and made sure you thought you were getting the information that you needed. You expect honesty I gather? Your specimens don't lie…soldiers do if they have to. Drazzic, he's a soldier, his crew were soldiers." Hall said simply and smiled in a weary way.

"Well, I'm glad that you've managed to answer that pressing question for me Captain Hall." Dr. Raven said curtly and turned away from him, staring at the spot he'd marked.

"You're welcome. Now if you'd excuse me, I have to break the news to my people that we're going to Mars, not back to barracks today." Hall said, leaving the observation room and the enthralled -if perhaps annoyed- Dr. Raven behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Again, I am very apreciative of the reviews and the enthusiasm for the story I'm writing! I'm glad that I'm entertaining with my little endeavor.**

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* * *

**2066, Cape Canaveral Spaceport, Florida

Captain Hall sighed and closed his eyes. He felt like a ping-pong ball, a particularly lethal, well trained and well motivated one, but still, a ball bouncing around without much definition to be had as to his lot in life. Of course, he knew that it was what came with being a soldier, but he'd been asleep six hours ago, without a care in the world. Now…now he was seated in the troop bay of a suborbital transport, his team sleeping around him, Dr. Raven at the head of the cabin with her holo pad, reading. Hall looked at the back of the scientist's head. He wouldn't say that he had a bad feeling about her…but something about the doctor made him leery. He'd seem people like her, the kind that only knew one goal in life, one objective, one purpose. Should that purpose fail…then terrible things would happen. They were the kinds of people who never accounted for failure, or thought that they wouldn't succeed. Humanity had many like her, the technology that surrounded him was testimony to that, but people like that…they tended to lack an understanding that people around them might not feel as impassioned as they did.

Hall looked down at his hands and worked them slowly, distracting him from the thoughts. Over-thinking this operation wouldn't do any good. Instead he closed his eyes and flicked on the exterior sensor view. The Sputnik transport was just grazing the upper levels of the atmosphere. All around the blue halo of earth receded, and high above the darkness of space beckoned to him, promising the far away stars high above. He looked at that darkness and knew the promise was of more than simple stars. There were worlds out there, worlds within reach. Worlds that held creatures that were not of this earth. The thought once again cut to Hall's heart. He knew he was still a little shocked by all that had happened in the past few hours. But now, it almost felt _normal_. No shock, no surprise, just the simple understanding that there were things out there. Not a theory, not a suspicion, not speculation. He _knew_.

He looked down at the Atlantic far below, the blue waters of the ocean stretching out beneath him. He knew that far below, people lived, worked and existed without the barest knowledge of what was going on beyond their little solar system. Sure, some…the smarter than average ones with some understanding of just what NASA and other researchers were looking at might think that humans wouldn't call Sol their only star for long. Most of them dreamed of going to mars, living the life of a frontier explorer. Children dreamed of being miners in the asteroid belt, or exploring the moons of Saturn and Jupiter. But few of them…very few people knew that humanity's first steps towards the true stars were close at hand.

Or that someone had already stepped into their little solar system…stumbled would perhaps be a better term…

Hall looked around at the Commandos for a few long moments, knowing that each of them was wrestling with the implications of just what was going on, just what they'd experienced. All of them were troopers in the UES, but not all of them had been born there…hell, none of them had. The UES was a new entity, formed scant years ago when the term 'North American Union' had ceased to properly describe the region that the government controlled. Even the North American Union hadn't been around long. It only lasted 20 years, formed from the ashes of the Great North American War that had been…bloody. _That_ lovely little dust up that had wrecked the US, Canada, and Mexico hadn't been too pleasant. About fourteen million dead along the Rio Grande and in the New England states had been enough for the populations of those three nations to rise up against their own corrupt leaderships and declare a new government…aided by soldiers who were tired of dying for a war none of them really understood. From those ashes, the North American Union had been born. Absorbing Central America, the Caribbean and portions of South America in peaceful annexations had stretched the title. But the Alliances that the NAU had with Japan, Australia, Taiwan and the UK had slowly gone from ally to state. The combined populations, economies and militaries of these countries had created a superstate, boasting technological progress unheard of in the rest of the world. 20 years of peace and prosperity was the reward for their peoples, unheard of in a world where the price of food and fresh water turned them into luxuries, and the price of oil and energy turned them into sought after trophies for the rich.

But it wasn't until the economically struggling European Union had decided to take the North Seas oil rigs and the UK along with them that the European War began and the EU was faced with the unpleasant prospect of losing to the NAU. The war was short and bloody, but by the end, the NAU had marched across Europe, occupying the continent and giving the people of Europe access to the simple staples and technological progress that the NAU enjoyed…although the North American Union turned into the United Earth States after the shattered nations of Europe slowly requested membership in the NAU. Like most people on the planet, poverty, hunger, and want were powerful enough motivations to make them want something better for their children. Even Russia applied for statehood in the UES rather than face the problem of revolt and anarchy by hungry mobs. Even after a century and a half, the memory of the Romanovs' fate was fresh.

But such a mass of different peoples were hard to get to operate together easily. Even though they all spoke English easily thanks to neural education, most still liked to speak their own tongues. Hall didn't have much of a problem with his team, they were professionals, and all of them were elite soldiers before becoming Commandos. But after this morning, he'd noticed the subtle signs that his team was closer than before. Nothing overt, no declarations of the naming of first borns or invitations for sons to be meeting daughters…but it was there. Sergeant Pizarro from North Mexico in first was talking quietly with Lieutenant Ivanov from the Ukraine. Bueller from Ireland was talking in undertones to Faust from Germany, and Leiutenant Takamazu from Japan was leaning close to nod. Hall watched and smiled ever slightly. He understood that most of the soldiers here had never really thought that there could be something other than humans who might threaten them.

Now there was something tangible, something bigger than them. Something whose 'different' couldn't be defined by lines on a map, or skin color, or what accent you spoke. Now there was something out there that was _alien_, alien in every sense of the word…and that was something that always made people draw a little closer together. When you knew that there was something out there in the darkness, something that might be big and clawed and hungry. Something that might snap all of you up if you didn't stand together. For a moment, Hall chuckled. Humans always were like that. Always looking for something to fight against. It was how they were wired.

Lately it had been other humans…in the UES, it was worry over the Chinese, or the Brazilians, or the Indians. For China and India and Brazil, it was worrying over feeding their people, getting them oil, and keeping them from deciding that their government was the problem. Now…there was something that made nations fighting each other seem paltry. A whole galaxy out there, filled with aliens who might not be very friendly…plenty of wars for humans were out there, and if they were going to fight them, they needed to make sure that the species had something akin to a united front back home. But…Hall knew, somehow, he _knew_ that humanity couldn't keep fighting itself when the galaxy beckoned. It just wouldn't. The past few millennia had been practice, now they were ready to see what they could do on the Galactic stage.

Hall laughed at the thought. It was that dreadful 'American' stereotype that still floated around even though there hadn't been a US of A for two decades. That thought that you were top dog and could take on anything that you dealt with, 'so bring the mother fuckers on'. He rolled his eyes at himself and realized that perhaps it wasn't an American trait, but a _human_ one. That desire to prove you're the best, that want to be confident, to deal with whatever get's thrown at you and come back with better. He smiled at that thought. Humanity had a lot on it's plate, it had hundreds of different cultures, a history that was tens of thousands of years in the making, it was the home of empires and nations, a species that had turned warfare into an art form…a species that waged it's economies and technological advancement with as much tenacity as any military campaign…with both reckless audacity and devious calculation. The Special Forces Captain took that to heart. Whatever the Salarians, whatever their allies, whatever _anything _threw at Earth, at humans, they could take it.

Hall sensed the transport shift and drop from orbital flight, descending into the thicker atmosphere after the two hour flight from Iceland, they were landing in Florida, at the largest spaceport on earth. Hall looked down through the sensors and saw the outline of the Cape, the original 'historic' Canaveral where humans had made their first steps to space, and stretching out over the ocean were the massive forms of the 'New Canaveral' the landing and launch fields built on pylons out onto the continental shelf itself. It was immense, some said it was larger than Rhode Island, an immense facility that did everything from training pilots, manufacturing and launching spacecraft, to controlling orbital operations for much of the UES's commercial space program. It wasn't primarily military, but the Sputnik transport slowly made a perfect glide approach into the northern military section of the sprawling facility. The landing was smooth as glass on the contra grav thrusters, and slowly the trans glided up to one of the numerous terminals for unloading. The team slowly disembarked from the transport and up the boarding access, all of them still wearing their combat gear from England, most of them boasting mud and grass scrapes on their armor. Nobody had been given any down time since they'd been rousted out of bed this morning…or yesterday…or…

Hall's head hurt trying to think of time zones as he walked along. Opening his eyes and looking around, he saw Dr. Raven making his way towards him as the unit walked along. Preemptively, he moved closer, intercepting the doctor slightly away from his unit.

"Doctor, I'm not sure why you're here." Hall said softly, preferring to communicate with his own voice than by linking neural nets. Something about the doctor told him that if he did that, he might find her poking about in places that he didn't want her to find. But then of course, who enjoyed somebody poking around in their brain? He glanced at the doctor and wondered if she didn't already know more about him than he knew about himself without a neural net scouring.

"Simple Captain. I'm the closest thing that the UES has to an expert on the Protheans. As such, it's my duty to be there when you locate and infiltrate the base." She said smoothly, not looking at him.

"Right, expert…" Hall said cynically.

"I've studied Drazzic's testimony on them as thoroughly as possible, and the data cache aboard the second Salarian vessel is being downloaded and categorized for me as we speak. I'll have access to everything that they know about the Protheans as soon as it's uploaded. That means that I'm the resident authority, and I have enough experience in the exobiological field that I can compensate for whatever unexpected we might discover." Dr Raven said professionally.

"Which is why you saw fit to shanghi forty Commandos during their rest and refit leave? What do you expect to find there?" Hall asked.

"Craft, data, possibly preserved specimens…" Dr Raven said, seemingly surprised by the question, then curious at Hall's blank stare.

"Defenses. I care about possible defenses." Hall said slowly, as if he were explaining something to a distracted child and forcing himself not to shout.

"Unknown." Dr Raven replied flatly. Hall nodded and knew that there were a few worse things that you could send to explore ancient alien ruins. A pure science team would have been a mistake…no matter how smart they were, the 'normal' things eluded them. Sure, Hall knew that 'normal' for him was potential death delivered via a number of exciting and interesting means. Normal for Dr Raven was probably something less lethal.

"Why don't you like me?" Dr Raven asked. Her tone was professional, but something in her eyes as she glanced at him…that soft glow of augmentics, that too precise look…but the concern that seemed to radiate from it…

"I don't like or dislike you Doctor. I'm a professional, you're a professional. You studied and researched and worked hard to get where you are. But remember, that by weight of learning, every one of my soldiers, myself included, is just as skilled, talented and as good at our jobs as you are. We're going in there to make sure that you don't trip a booby-trap or awaken some synthetic defense mechanism. You're there to find all the wonderful secrets that humans need. It's just professional respect Doctor. We respect your job, just make sure you respect ours." Hall said easily. He knew the mindset of the Doctor, he knew that there were a lot of people out there who thought soldiers were just cannon fodder on modern battlefields. But they weren't. To be a modern infantryman…it needed something more than a uniform, a direction to fire, and a weapon. Too easily was it forgotten by the 'smart' folks back home.

"I see." She replied quietly and nodded to herself as the soldiers reached what was a temporary holding area while the orbital shuttle was readied for them. Sprawling out, Hall watched the conversations he'd seen on the flight continue…the openness of his troopers continuing. As he sat down, Dr Raven sat next to him.

"You see it too, don't you." She said quietly. Hall looked over at her, then nodded.

"Yeah." He replied, knowing she was speaking about the openness, and conversation between his unit.

"I know combat units are closer than most. The threat of death tends to make some things seem lessened. But I've seen this before as well." Dr Raven said.

"Oh? You have?" Hall asked, surprised.

"Yes Captain, I am a professional after all." She replied, a light smile that didn't look as professional or predatory as the others drifted onto her lips.

"Point taken doctor, consider me aptly chastised." Hall replied chuckling softly.

"Noted, Captain."

"Mark." Hall offered.

"Cassandra." She replied in response. Both of them nodded respectfully and then Cassandra spoke again.

"It's the same with science teams. You'd be rather shocked at how clannish and petty geniuses are. They have their own views, and everyone else is wrong. They're the perfect example of their field and no one else has anything else they can supply. Throw in the fact that most of our researchers are from different states, states that were nations years ago. It's not pretty when you try to do research. That's why most comes from the NAU territories. A more…unified front as it were. They just have to deal with scientific ego, not a Russian researcher not trusting a German lab tech who can't stand the French tech specialist. But…on our project at FrostKnight? They learn about the Salarians, the Reticulans, they study the logs, they learn about everything that's out there, they learn that humanity isn't alone…and they work together. Better than any private lab I've ever seen. They know that they need to work together that being human has become more important than being Canadian, or American, or Japanese, or Italian." Cassandra said, smiling absently at the thought. Hall looked over and nodded as well.

"We're a team, but this, discovery…it's broken down barriers I didn't know where there." Hall said.

"It's how it is. That's why the UES wants to control the Prothean ruins and have a good footing for the Charon Relay, that way we'll have the political power to end all these wars and simply become a Human species reaching out to the stars. No more human killing human in endless wars." Cassandra said, a moment of passion that seemed out of place for such a hard and predatory person. Hall looked at her. She blinked and smiled again.

"What? I'm a scientist, not a heartless monster." She said.

"Noted." Hall said dryly.

"It's a means to an end in the UES's eyes. We manage to provide proof of alien species and that humans can approach them on an equal footing, and things will get better. But nothing's a given, we want to have soldiers there before we break the news that we're holding an few alien ships, a bunch of bodies and know where at least one species lives." Cassandra said.

"Oh? We know where the Salarians are from?" Hall asked, surprised that Drazzic would give up _that _information easily…if at all.

"Not the Salarians, Reticulans. Short ones with big heads and eyes. Though we think there might be more nearby…the Vega system has some promise…but we're not sure." Cassandra said off handedly.

"Wait…" Hall said, realizing that apparently the feeling of _normal_ associated with talking about alien species wasn't _entirely_ gone.

"Salarians are part of the 'Citadel Council' Drazzic was vague on just what they were. But he might have exaggerated somewhat when it came to their strength. The couldn't control the entire galaxy…as for the Reticulans, they're from the Zeta Reticuli system, we've known about them since the 1940's. They had a habit of abducting people and deciding to experiment on them. They stopped showing up after they realized we could find them, track them and shoot them down. As for the Vega system? That's a question mark. Old SETI programs detected something coming from that area…but we don't know what." Cassandra said readily, Mark blinked again and rubbed his forehead.

"Okay…wait…" He said meekly and Cassandra laughed.

"They're out there Hall, we know about more than anyone knows. One of them stumbled onto us and the survivor was going on about his bigger stronger allies. Another one came here to do things to our women in the dark of night, and ran off when they found a shotgun and a flashlight. Whatever else is out there…hopefully they're more friendly than the rest of them." Dr Raven said softly. Hall looked at her and nodded as well. He knew he was having a hard time processing it, and he knew it was going to be a harder thing for most humans to swallow. But somehow the Captain had faith that they would adapt and decide that they were going to do better.

"So how ready have we been for all this? How ready are we to face aliens?" Hall asked quietly.

"You know it better than I do Mark. They bleed, they die, and we can make them bleed if we have to. But I suppose you're talking about getting there?" She asked.

"Sitting around for a few thousand years before we can see if they want to be friendly or try to conquer us would get boring." Hall said.

"We've had a prototype FTL drive in development for over a decade. After we captured the Salarian ship and Drazzic we realized that we could either reverse engineer theirs or continue with our own design. But the Salarian FTL system works off their use of Element Zero, an element that can warp spacetime. Ours works on the concept of shifting out of our dimension of existence. Into a Hyperspace as it were. Original, yes?" She said, smiling slightly.

"Oh, very much so. Don't let LucasArts know…" Hall said rolling his eyes.

"Yes, it's a secret. Such as it is, our FTL drive requires more energy, but our technology base compensates. It's more versatile than the Salarian system, but I'd say it's just as capable. There's been a highly secret test run undertaken that proves it works. We can go there, we can do it in a few days, not millennia. We have the ability to make our way out to the stars. The Prothean Ruins? Those are consolidating our hold. And the Mass Relay at Charon? We want to secure that so that the Salarians or the Citadel Council can't come down on us like the wrath of good without our being prepared for it." Cassandra said.

"I take it we've been doing this for a while?" Hall asked.

"There were plans in place dating back to the 1950s about this, but the technology was so primitive back then we didn't have a chance of practically employing it. By the turn of the millennia we could barely think of going to Mars in a reasonable amount of time. Now though, now we've gotten beyond the planning stage. The UES has been very big in taking the plans of the NAU and before them the United States on moving off of earth and into the wider galaxy."

"How…forward thinking of them." Hall said, thinking about the more mundane things that had been done over the past few years. Research and development of countless new technologies, the expansion of the Martian colonies, the expansion of Luna. Even the construction of the Freedom Star Orbital Instillation and the proposal to create an actual skyhook elevator from Mount Kilimanjaro to an orbital facility. The more you looked at it through the lens of aliens being out there, the more it looked like the UES had been in a massive infrastructure construction plan for almost ten years. Hall nodded appreciatively.

"How did you keep it secret?" He asked, that question had been bothering him for a while now. Cassandra smiled.

"Without a Salarian shooting at you, would you have believed it?" She asked.

"That simple? Just make it too unbelievable?"

"I remember reading, that the difference between fiction and reality is that fiction must be believable, reality just has to happen. This has happened, and I'm sure that some people won't believe that it's real, but the UES banked on that during these research and construction projects, that the average person would hear that they were being built and see it as expanding the UES and humanity to the solar system. Not preparing to expand to the galaxy." Cassandra replied.

"I guess you have a point Doctor." Hall replied.

"Of course I do, I'm a professional." She said with a chuckle and Mark replied by rolling his eyes as the message was made that the transport to Freedom Star was ready. Hall looked at his team and the empty waiting area around them. Apparently his unit was being kept isolated so that nothing could be leaked out about their mission. That was fine with Hall, the sooner he got to Mars and the Prothean ruins, the sooner he could get back and go back to his nice quiet barracks at Hereford. With luck, the longest portion of this trip would be the twenty-four hour flight to Chyrse from Freedom Star aboard the shuttle. Not that going on an interplanetary hop was fun mind you. It kept him in mind of those horror stories of people going from one end of the planet to another in the days of jet planes.

"I hope you brought a book, Captain." Dr Raven said. He looked over at her and nodded.

"Of course I did, I'll be studying all that lovely information that you get to read too once it's downloaded. So I get to figure out just how dangerous our grand galactic reception might be." Hall replied with a chuckle as the team made it's way to the boarding ramp and then into the cabin of the transport. They settled down into their little groups and chatted as they strapped in, most of them ready for more sleep like any good soldiers. It was odd, there was no fear. Something that less than a hundred years ago was a massive undertaking, simply going into orbit was routine, just like going to Mars. It was just another trip, just another flight to take.

For a moment Hall wondered what it would be like when flying to Alpha Centauri or Barnard's Star was 'just another flight'…and he realized that he might just be around to see it.


	4. Chapter 4

2066, Chyrse Colony, Mars

After a routine flight lasting twenty four hours, thirty eight minutes and five seconds, (but who's counting?) the transport touched down on the main landing field outside of Chyrse uneventfully. It was like any other commuter flight, right down to the UEAF pilot of the shuttle giving the local weather conditions (cold, windy, and red) before taxiing into one of the many hangers on the field. As the main doors sealed shut behind it, sealing out the red dust of the Martian hydrosphere, Hall rose from his seat. He felt his combat armor boots grav seal to the floor automatically in the lighter gravity of Mars. He'd had his Zero and low G combat training long ago and he remembered the particulars of it. Less weight, same mass was the heart of it all. Hall looked over his shoulder as the UEAF sergeant who was the shuttle's 'stewardess' announced they could rise up. Unnecessary, since the commandos had already gotten up, Dr. Raven though, she'd waited for the command.

"Alright, disembark and board the transports in the hangar, there are four APC's out there that will take you to the staging area." The Sergeant ordered gruffly as he unsealed the hatch and opened it to the hangar. As Hall stepped out, he could taste the difference in the air. He'd never been to Mars before. Never been off Earth before to tell the truth. The air tasted different…there was a tang to it that felt different in his mouth. Something unfamiliar as he breathed it in. It wasn't the air filtration, no…it was the dust, that red Martian dust that made the world seem like a rust colored sphere in space. Hall tasted it and then shook his head. Sometimes it was the small things that made you stop and think. The smallest things that no one ever thought of…like asking a fish what 'wet' was, ask a human what earth air tastes like. Hall marched down the disembark ramp, still in his armor. The entire team had taken the opportunity to dearmor for the voyage, but Hall had been…cautious, enough to have them re-armor and clean it up. No sense letting the Martian regulars think that Special Forces Commandos let a simple thing like being rolled out of bunk and shipped to another planet muss their gear.

Hall looked at the ship as the troops dismounted and boarded the APC's. They were professional about it, but he caught the looks around the hangar, and could sense the anticipation in them. He'd found out on the flight that only two of his troopers had been to Mars. Sergeant Marywheither had spent time with the garrison…but Sergeant Stiles had been born there. The rest of them were letting their 'tourist' minds get a little antsy. Hall knew that feeling, but he also knew that they were well aware of what they were here to do. Hall was pretty sure that his team had long ago reached the point of 'shock saturation', he knew he certainly had about a day and a half ago.

He looked over to Dr. Raven, who had been mostly silent during the flight, spending all of it sitting reclined with her eyes closed, her neural link communicating with the archives on Earth as the Salarian ship was picked apart and the data core downloaded. She'd been studying it for hours, and given the speed of a neural link, that meant it was either a massive amount of information, or she was going over it repeatedly. Hall hadn't delved into it as much as she had, but he'd caught glimpses. He was rather concerned with one or two things he'd read. Geth, Korgan and Turians topped the list of his worries. Thankfully, one was reclusive, one was dying out, and the third…

Well, they bled and died…

He knew that the information was being pulled apart by scientists before being poured over by men and women with stars on their shoulders…but he'd seen enough that he knew things would be quite interesting in a few years. But as he settled into the seat on the Blair APC, he knew that such things were dangerous to speculate about. There was a mission to carry out and hypothetical had to wait. He leaned back and looked at Dr. Raven as she settled into the jump seat across him. She didn't say anything, but Hall could tell that there were cracks in her renewed stoic façade. She was getting excited. Hall smiled lightly and looked up towards the front of the APC as he felt it slowly rise and begin to glide along and out the hangar airlock.

Hall had received the current mission brief while he'd been en-route to Mars and things seemed pretty simple. Sub orbital flight to the objective along with elements of the 2nd Martian Division, Commandos make a close assault drop on the crater while the regulars form a perimeter around the objective and ensure that the facility is secure. Science team will be dropping after the location is considered 'safe'. Combat engineering units will then be moved into place and begin construction of a large scale base to maintain positive control of the Prothean ruins. One thing that made the veteran commando grateful for the Neural links, it was as easy to plan a mission and disseminate information through the unit as it was to think. His unit had everything it needed, High command knew what it needed, all the support networks and forces were in place. Infowar they called it…Hyperwar…sensory overload… It was a helluva good weapon. Something that Hall knew saved a lot of lives in combat.

Hall felt the APC turn and quickly looked outside via his neural link. The transport was outside and moving towards a collection of shuttles, all around them the Martian regulars were readying weapons and loading their vehicles onto the transports. Hall saw them taking full combat loads for their Pulse rifles, and their vehicles looked to be fully armored. They weren't going to take chances and Hall couldn't blame him. Local defense was more theoretical than anything else on Mars, if the Chinese wanted to invade the red planet there were a lot of steps they'd have to make. Actually having a space program that was more than a couple of sealed tubes in space would be one of the first. India and Brazil didn't even have orbital launch capability. UES High Command thought that the earliest China would be able to make an assault on Mars would be between twenty and thirty years. Ten if the UES gave China all the tech they needed. Closer to fifty if they had to research it. But if it was one thing that the UES Military knew from the lessons of the North American War and the European War, it was that complacency was lethal. Martian troops trained religiously, though they'd never fired a shot in anger on the red planet, the twin divisions stationed on the surface had the highest combat efficiency rate of any military force in the UES.

As the APC idled up to the transports, the rear ramp opened and Hall saw the shimmer of the light magseal keeping breathable air in the passenger compartment. He rose and left his troopers in the transport, stepping off into the sunlight filering through the thin atmosphere above. He walked up quickly to the commander of the Battalion and saluted.

"Major, I'm Captain Hall, my unit is supervising the science team and leading the assault." He said professionally over his suit comm. His armor had defaulted to a rust red, as the Major turned Hall noted his armor was locked in a 'martian dazzle' pattern of jagged red and black colors. The Major returned the salute.

"Good to have you here Captain. The 45th is ready for whatever we find, but you and your men have the privilege of cracking open this ruin and finding out what's under our soil for the first time." The Major said with what had to be a wry smile behind his faceplate.

"Just doing my job sir." Hall replied.

"I know Captain, I saw the brief on the engagement in England. Nice to know these things can actually die. It makes my men much more comfortable knowing their Pulse rifles aren't simply light sticks."

"They bleed sir, but this is an ancient ruin, it's supposed to be abandoned." Hall said as the Major gestured for him to follow towards the command transport, a larger lifter that was a converted V-44 Stork, filled with computers, sensors and communications links. As they set foot on the rear ramp of the V-44C, the Major spoke again.

"We're Martians Captain. Our planet has always been…creepy. You've not lived here, but if you spend a month, you know what it feels like. That sense that you're on an empty world that once held much more. The scientists agree that there used to be life here. Not naturally sentient life…but a world's ecosystem was here. Thriving and alive. Now it's dead, the life that dwells here is what we brought. Those eco-nuts back at the start of the century never quite understood just what they were talking about when they said mankind was killing earth." The Major said quietly. Hall looked out at the deserts stretching out to the horizon. Red wastes broken by rock…but devoid of life.

"But we're not worried about the ghosts of plants and animals…we always felt like there's something here that was beyond us. Mars still has the highest rate of civilian firearms ownership in any UES territory, plus the highest percentage of membership in the militia. We've been waiting for something to come out of those deserts for us… It's nice to know that we're not all crazy Captain. There was something out there." The Major said and they stepped into the mag sealed cargo bay filled with command staff.

"I can understand that completely Major." Hall said with a chuckle.

"The plan from high command is simple, we'll go in hard and fast. The 45th takes defensive positions, your men drop in hard. It'll be fast and easy, no surprises." The Major said professionally as they walked down a line of troopers in armor working control holos. The Major and hall stopped in front of a massive command holo projector that showed a breakdown of the entire area around the Deseado Crater. The image was rapidly recycling with real time input from orbital satellites. Hall looked at the deep penetrating sensor data and examined the shape being built of a large structure buried beneath the dust.

"So that's what an alien outpost looks like." He said quietly looking at the outline of a small underground facility being mapped out. It was like any other military bunker he'd seen imagery of. Nothing exceptional, except for what was inside it and who made it.

"From what it looks like, there's a main hangar buried at the bottom of the crater, camouflaged, you should have a point of entry there. If this data is correct, the ships or whatever these Pro-theas used, from there it's suspected that the main power source is in the lower chambers. Other than that, you're going to be doing the scouting in there yourself Captain. Our orbital satellites can't penetrate the upper levels." The Major said the last bit rather grimly, and Hall knew just what it meant. Eighty years ago, American Satellites could scan underground facilities with their radar. UES technology was light-years beyond that…and they were getting stonewalled. Hall didn't like to think just what that meant about Prothean tech…it was advanced…and it would be practical to shield a research facility that was supposed to be hidden. But it was something intrinsic to the construction, not an active defense. If it was an active defense…Hall didn't like where that line of thought went. There might be something active in there, something more tangible than a mere shielding system. Something that might shoot back.

"Alright sir, we're ready to move out when your forces are." Hall said. The Major nodded and it was clear, the mission was on. Hall jogged out of the V-44C's rear hatch and it sealed, making his way over to the transport holding his assault team. He boarded and as he stepped through the side hatch the transport lifted, moving hard and fast out of the spaceport. Hall could sympathize with the desire to move hard and fast to break this Prothean ruin wide open. Everyone wanted to get there, to see it, to walk the halls of something that had been there 40,000 years before humans had built civilization. A ruin more ancient than anything they'd ever seen. Something built by aliens…something that might hold the key to making humans start thinking like a _species_ for one. It might be a fevered dream…but it was one worth trying to get.

Hall walked down the line of commandos. Two days ago, they had been worrying about being re-deployed o the middle east or Africa. Now they were on Mars and racing to uncover a ruin of a lost civilization that could be the key to a new dawn of humanity. They were pros, that was for sure, but the vibe in the cabin wasn't one of professional soldiers on a mission. It was something different, something beyond professionalism…it was a sense of pride that was beyond a warrior's pride of ability. It was knowing, _knowing_ in your heart that you were about to do something that was historic, something that people would talk about centuries after you died. That you were going to be a part of something that was immense and powerful. Hall stood for a moment and nodded at the thought….so this is what history felt like. His mind drifted for a long time at that thought, thinking about battles that had been fought, thinking about what it was like for those men and women who had that moment of clarity, knowing that they were going to be a part of something that was going to be remembered. The commando thought for a moment that perhaps it was strange for a soldier to be making history for doing something other than winning a war. Hall smiled and hoped for a moment that it would set a precedent. He made his way to a jump seat and settled in to wait out the rest of the trip.

Dr. Raven was seated with a group of scientists. Local experts and the general clique of the 'smartest people in the room' as scientists tended to be thought of. The aloof experts who knew everything you didn't and were geniuses. Hall was grateful that his people weren't going with the traditional extreme reaction to the scientific arrogance…the rather simple commando mentality of 'I'm smart and tough, you're just smart'. Hall wouldn't have blamed them, but his troopers were more intent on what they'd gone through and would be going through than simply seeing who had the bigger bragging rights. The commandos were chattering, but most were closing their eyes and getting themselves in the proper mindset for combat out of habit. Excited they might have been, but they were professionals.

The scientists…they weren't so relaxed and at ease as his people. In fact, there was a rather excited argument going on about just what the Protheans might have been liked. Hall looked to Dr. Raven and saw her immersed in the debate that seemed two steps from being an argument, and three from a fist fight. It was ironic that the scientists were close to a fight, while the soldiers were relaxed and resting. Hall rolled his eyes once more and leaned his head back.

"Captain, what do you think we're going to find?" A soft voice called into his hear over the armor's command frequency. Hall tilted his head slightly and saw that the question had come from Sergeant Williams down the line of soldiers. Her helmet was tilted to one side and she was looking at him from the corner of her faceplate, her hands preoccupied with working the edge of a knife along the thigh section of her battle armor. It was a simple way to sharpen a blade…and to be honest, did little to an ultra dense monomolecular edged combat knife…but Hall knew why troopers did it, to fill the air with the sinister scrape of metal on metal. He knew that Williams was the kind of woman who was more down to earth than most. She didn't like scientists…or noncombatants to tell the truth. She was comfortable with her armor on and a weapon in her hands.

"I don't know Williams. It's an alien ruin after all." Hal replied over the com, keeping it discrete and over the point to point laser com. They were the only two in on this discussion.

"Sir, you know me, I'm no coward…but this is something they never really trained us for." She replied, her fingers running the knife edge over her armor plate thigh. A scientist glanced over at her sitting there and shifted a little further away from the commando, looking more than a little nervous.

"Me either Sergeant. But we're the best and we've got a job to do." Hall said simply.

"I know sir. I know. But it's alien, not like we see that every day." She said with a soft laugh.

"No, we don't, they gave us that day off after the last one." Hall replied and got a more pronounced laugh from it.

"True sir. What do you think of that doctor?" Williams asked and Hall looked as the Sergeant's view plate shifted slightly to glance over at said doctor. She was gesturing wildly around in the air at a holoprojection of the Prothean base. It was the same image he'd spoken to the Major about, but apparently scientists worried about different things than soldiers. Dr. Raven was clearly in charge…and something about being around other intellectuals had made her revert to that cold professional veneer he'd seen at FrostKnight when she'd so artfully sat across from Drazzic…even if the Salarian had managed to keep her guessing and deceived for five years, she hadn't been giving less than her best…Drazzic had simply been better.

Even if she'd won in the end.

"I think I've met more trustworthy sharks Sarge." Hall replied. He and Williams were close, she was one of the longer serving troopers in this unit, and she'd been a sterling example of a commando on every deployment he'd gone on with her. Plus, saving his life from a few insurgents hadn't hurt either. Hall trusted Williams, trusted her just a little bit more than the rest of his troopers. They didn't exactly know it, since they trusted the veteran commando as well.

"I agree Captain." Williams replied, running her knife over her thigh armor again.

"Listen Sarge. I don't know what we're going to see in there, but I do know that we're ready for it, right? Besides, the scientists get to sift through the ruins after we clear it, so no need to worry about babysitting." He said, sounding almost cheerful.

"Lovely, so they'll be breathing down our necks while we spend our time making sure that the console they want to look at isn't wired to explode? Nice." Williams snorted.

"Sarge, you wanted an easy job, you could have been Navy." Hall replied.

"Yeah, yeah…they've got better uniforms." She scoffed and went back to her knife sharpening with an extended flourish. Hall closed his eyes, settled back into the jump seat and tried to sleep a little more before they hit the llast leg of their trip.

Given the number of eyes watching the Martian deployment, some might have expected there to be a problem. Somebody fucking up with the thought of all the pressure and everyone watching them, but despite it, the Martians preformed admirably, deploying like it was just a routine training mission and isolating the crater, then bunkering down to wait…just like the rest of High command and a growing list of men and women who were eager to examine just what Captain Hall and his team were going to find. No one really knew, no one that was alive anyway. The Salarians had been very vague on the subject of the Protheans, whether by accident or design, they didn't know that much about this elder race. Not that it much mattered to the boots on the ground. They knew they were on point for it, and they were locked and loaded.

"One minute!" Came the barked command over the teams helmet coms. There were still forty of them, and they were all getting more and more tense by the second. Adrenalin was one hell of a drug to have flooding through your veins, and this mission, in front of so many people watching, so many who wanted to study what lay far below them in the Martian sands…it was enough to make even the best troopers get a little tense. Hall leaned out the side deployment door as the V-44 flew low over the red dust. He could see the IFF's of the Martian troops on the rim of the crater. Hall leaned back in and he saw the raised fists of the commandos, already giving the 'ready to go' sign. Hall raised his own fist in unison and all forty commandos slapped their gauntlets hard to their chest plates.

They were ready.

Hall felt the transport make a slow orbit of the crater before dropping fast to do a rapid drop off. As the ground rose up beneath him, hall gripped the edge of the hatch with one hand, the grip of his weapon on the other. The propulsion units on the wings of the transport turned the rusty martian ground into a tornado, the dust covering the descending transport in a massive cloud. The view plate on his helmet automatically compensated, and he leapt out the door as the transport stopped at ten feet, coasting forward and holding altitude as the other commandos leapt out from both sides of the transport. It took less than ten seconds from the time that Hall hit the ground to the last commando landing and the V-44 climbing hard out of it's own purpose made smoke screen. Hall couldn't help but admire the Martians technique…but didn't spare a second for praise. His weapon was up, this was being treated as a hot drop into a combat zone, and he subconsciously switched to a view of the teams deployment, watching them form a defensive circle.

"First, sweep for the entry point." Hall ordered as he checked the imagery being overlaid to his helmet. He could 'see' a composite of his soldier's sensors, and as he moved into the center of the position. It was disconcerting to see something from multiple positions, but you got used to it…even if the human brain wasn't exactly wired to see something from forty perspectives at once. He shook off the sense of vertigo and resorted to single feed from his own eyes.

As he cut across the center of the circle, nothing was exactly jumping out at him that screamed 'entry point to alien ruins'. He had been hoping for a lovely sign, or a convenient access point…

"Captain looks like a pyramid here…" Hall immoderately switched over to the trooper's optical feed and saw the perfectly shaped pyramid jutting up from the Martian dust…a pair of hands working at the red powder surrounding it, there didn't seem to be an end. As he paused next to the kneeling troopers and looked at the redish pyramid as it sat there…a bluish cap on the top. Hall brought up the imaging map and examined it for a moment. On impulse he launched one of his recon drones and had it circle around, directing it's sensors on the pyramid. It went a long way down into the Martian soil…deep enough that they were going to need more than hands to dig the thing out…in fact, it looked as though the only way to get into this base was going to be accelerating the deployment of the combat engineering units…

"Whoa!" Hall heard over his comm and spun to look back at the pyramid. Sergeant Chenkov who'd been digging was on his ass, weapon in hand and pointed at the top of the pyramid…or rather the unfolding top of the pyramid. Hall dove to the ground and the rest of forth raised their weapons.

"What happened Chenkov?" Hall asked warily, watching. The top of the pyramid blossomed and opened up, it was hollow…as the sides slid down, Hall ordered the recon drone to drop into the darkness. Hall watched the uplink as the drone slowly descended, it's sensors probing the darkness and revealing a descending staircase that seemed to be arrayed along roughly human size. Slowly, Hall stood and moved closer to the opening as the other commandos moved in, all of them rather leery of what might be looming in the darkness.

"I touched the top sir, and the damn thing opened up…" Chenkov said, standing up

"Let's go." Hall said simply and stepped over the edge of the newly opened pyramid and descended into the dark. Hall could feel the reluctance of his unit, but Sergeant Williams was right behind him. His boot touched the first step and he _knew _what Neil Armstrong, or Christopher Columbus or Jin Xiang must have felt like when they made their first steps into the truly unknown.

"Right with you Captain." Williams said as he moved deeper into the Prothean access point. Hall kept his pulse rifle shouldered and ready, it was hard for him to think that there was something within this facility, but he wasn't going to take any chances. 50,000 years was a long time, but it wasn't impossible that there was something here. Hall's recon drone descended down the spiraling staircase and the sensor feed began to show something that he didn't expect…lights.

"You seeing this Captain?" Williams asked tentatively, and tapped the walls of the staircase with the muzzle of her weapon. Hall looked at them and saw the soft blue light emanating from them at shoulder height. They hadn't been there before.

"The facility is waking up." Came Dr. Raven's voice over the suit coms. Hall didn't respond but he couldn't help but agree. Behind him, he saw the soldiers spread out on the spiral staircase, looking at the walls nervously. Hall whistled sharply and he saw them jump slightly. He continued descending as the feed of the recon drone reached what had to be the bottom level of the stairs, a long corridor that stretched out before it, one headed towards what was considered the 'hangar' the other to the rest of the facility. Hall had the recon drone wait as he made it to the level and then stopped.

The entire passage was bathed in an eerie bluish light that seemed to be coming from the walls themselves. It was a taller corridor than something made for a human. Hall knelt and looked down the corridor towards the base, his view plate amplified it and then shifted the spectrum on his command. There were some kind of force shields holding back the thin Martian atmosphere…they didn't read as anything akin to UES Ion barriers or magna locks. Hall raised his fist and signaled the team to halt, reflexively using the simplest commands instead of a neural link order.

Behind him, the commandos halted and waited, weapons ready.

Hall slowly rose and gestured for Williams and Chenkov to follow him. He turned and moved towards the hangar area, gesturing for the rest of the commandos to form up and watch the other hallway. Without checking to see if his troops were obeying, he moved down towards the hangar and the only active energy signatures that they had to work off of. His sensors registered the gravitic anomalies that were still fluctuating. There was a full fledged blast door at the end of the hallway, not a mere energy field. As he approached, he examined the faceless barrier and wondered if it would be possible to blast through the structure…and just how enraged the scientists would be if he used shaped charges in their precious ruins…

…when the blast door clicked and slid open.

Hall ducked reflexively as it slid open mostly silently. It looked like it was stone, but there was no grating noise, no grinding, no screech of metal on metal just a soft whisk of the bulkhead receding into the ceiling of the passage. When no unspeakable horror came rushing out, Hall rose and marched forward through the opened door and into the hangar. It was almost entirely empty, a massive box with what looked to be a massive hatchway in the roof of the chamber that was buried under the crater. Hall looked around and the sensors on his armor confirmed the obvious before his eyes. Two craft sat there, oval in shape with hulls of shining chrome. There was something about them that made them seem identical to the flying saucers from a century past. Williams moved forward slightly and gazed at the craft warily. Other than the ships, the massive hanger was empty.

"They didn't die off, they left." Hall said simply.

"Captain?" Williams asked, looking over at him curiously.

"The Protheans, they left this place deliberately. There aren't any remnants of equipment or tech laying about. Just those two ships. I don't think we'll find anything other than what they intend for us to find." Hall said and turned from the craft, content with knowing the room was secure. As he moved back down the access hallway, he gave the order for the unit to move up and begin to secure the facility. The commandos moved forward as Hall and the others followed.

"That they intended for us to find? What do you mean Captain?" Williams asked.

"Simple Sergeant, they knew we'd get here eventually, and I think that they wanted to leave something behind for us. A parting gift I suppose since it's pretty sloppy to leave behind two spacecraft, but not any other equipment? That hangar was spotless, you don't do that by accident." Hall said as the commandos reached a blast door at the end of the corridor, which opened just as readily as the one in the hangar. The commandos filed through it and slowly explored the facility.

Hall was right. Rooms were almost sterile in how empty they were. No dust, no scraps or remnants of technology, just bare rooms that were larger than human standard. Part of Hall expected to find a body, or some mummified corpse. A crate, or the remnants of something left behind in a madcap rush to flee. But no…it was all empty. Chamber after chamber, hall after hall, all of them lit by the same faint blue lighting, all of them empty. As Hall walked along, and watched the commandos clearing the facility, he checked the sensor data. Almost everything was just like the Martian climate above. Dry and cold, but there were elevated radiation levels…something else had to be active, unless the Protheans had _extremely_ good batteries.

"Captain! We've found something!" Came the excited call from first squad. They were on the deepest level of the facility, and without a doubt, that's where something would be kept. What that _something_ was however, that was up for debate. Hall moved through the mapped facility, passing commandos standing in the desolate hallways and looking around vacant chambers. There was truly nothing to be found, and Hall was sure that the scientists who came after the commandos wouldn't find much of anything…unless this something was a little more tangible. Hall keyed up the optical link and tried to make sense of just what the team was seeing. But he was coming up short.

Descending a flight of stairs, he arrived at the deepest chamber of the Prothean facility, passing through a blast door, and looking at…something.

"What the hell is it?" Came the soft murmur from one of the commandos. Hall didn't have an answer. It looked like an obelisk with a gently sloping base…a strange construct that was pure white, yet had a softly glowing green stripe along the sides, and seemed to be radiating some kind of luminescent green. Behind it rested some structure that Hall guessed must be some kind of power source or mainframe…but this…obelisk…

"I don't know Kage…I really don't know. But this facility is empty, except for two ships, and that." Hall said, staring at the obelisk and wondering just what fantastic thing was resting before him. He knew that Dr. Raven would be ecstatic over it.

"This is Hall, facility is secure. We can move in the science team." Hall said over the unit com, their part in this mission was complete. Hall and his men were ready for some rack time and down time. After being run across two planets for missions, none of them wanted anything more than some sleep and a decent meal.

* * *

The commandos got to spend the next day doing the same thing as the rest of the human race. Sitting in front of their holos in the UES…or their TV's and radios in other territories, listening to the UES President make the historic announcement that humanity was not alone in the universe, and that Alien ruins had been discovered on Mars. The speech was long, but in it, there was a simple message, that it was time for the people of earth to start being humans united behind a single banner, a human species reaching for the stars, rather than a human species intent on killing each other. The speech was heard around the world. From Brazil to China and India, Australia to Canada, across Europe and Africa. There was barely a human who failed to hear the speech, and the reactions were immense, before the day was over, the face of the Earth changed. In China, the politburo faced uprisings in Bejing that toppled the government before they could even begin to crack down on dissidents. India petitioned to join the UES. In Brazil the crowds filling the streets shut down the great metropolises, soldiers left the front line, or simply gave up fighting and let UES forces pass over their positions.

In one day, a world that was covered in strife and war became a united front. In a week, the UES was officially changed to the Systems Alliance . Humanity as a whole had undergone the single greatest transformation in it's history. But the commandos' who had been the first in the Prothean Ruins on Mars didn't much care. They knew that there was a wider universe out there…and they were more concerned with sleep before they had to get up and face everything that lurked out there.


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm very grateful for all the feedback, and glad that everyone is enjoying it. Apologies on the delay in a new chapter. My Girlfriend was visiting for the holidays._

_For anyone who's interested, my technical concepts have moved from Supreme Ruler 2020, to GURPS Ultra Tech 1 & 2, along with GURPS Traveller; Starships, for the class and general design of human vessels. For anyone who's curious, the Vegans are an alien species from GURPS Traveller: Rim of Fire. The Star Charts are mostly gained from the GURPS 'Ring of Fire' sourcebook on the local side, so I apologize for any errors on that part._

_

* * *

_**2070, Space Station Unity**

'Humanity's Progress' it was one hell of a smarmy name for a colony ship, but with things like this, you had to do something dramatic. Of course, it was mostly public relations, something to take holo's of and make images for the vids so that people could see a shining example of human technological development and the first steps into space. For the most part, you'd have thought that if they were going to make this the poster ship of human colonization efforts, they'd make the thing look better. As it was, 'Humanity's Progress' looked like a series of large cylinders arrayed around a central core, anti-proton drives on one end, cockpit on the other. It was not a pretty ship, it seemed like it had been built along the lines of a container vessel.

Commander Wayneright looked at the vessel sitting in one of Unity's orbital docks and shook his head. He was glad that 'Humanity's Progress' was _not _a military vessel. He preferred the sleek lines and actual design of the F-205 Raptors that the Areospace forces were flying now. A nice smooth craft that you knew was responsive and dangerous. No a lumbering space warehouse that ferried a few thousand people and their equipment to another planet. Wayneright looked out the synthetic diamond view plate at the ship and saw the transports making the final runs to the ship. Of course, he'd had his own reasons for being here…you didn't get to come to Unity unless you had a reason.

The terminus of the Kilimanjaro Space Elevator was humanity's orbital shipyard, receiving all the minerals from Luna, Mars and the asteroid belt, and all the tech and personnel shipped up from Earth to combine them into the makings of the human star fleet. After four years, it was mind boggling to think about how far they'd come…the entire space faculty made the old International Space Station seem like an orbiting trash can. Unity boasted over fifty thousand construction personnel and military personnel that worked in the space docks and hangars to produce humanity's spaceships. The F-205 Raptor fighters and FB-10 Dragon bombers were manufactured groundside…but the ships? The Frigates and Cruisers? Those needed space docks, because you couldn't easily land a 5,000-10,000 ton Frigate in atmosphere. Even with that new fangled element zero that the techs had touted as a revolutionary concept in physics.

Wayneright never bought into it much, instead, he cared more about being able to _understand_ just how his ship was controlled and piloted. Give him an antimatter drive any day instead of some 'mass altering element' and he would be happy. The veteran pilot turned from the viewport. He wasn't up here by happenstance. 'Humanity's Progress' would be using the Charon Mass Relay to jump to Arcturus, and then head to the Exodus star system. It would be the first trans-relay colonization effort, one of three worlds to be settled in a rush, all of them Earth like and ripe for human populations. Eden Prime, Terra Nova, and Shanxi, the names were already picked, and each one would boast a starter population of ten thousand new colonists. The colony ship would get it's own military escort, not because of worries over something attacking, but for a demonstration of the new System's Alliance Navy. Wayneright knew it was an honor to have his fighter wing stationed aboard the SSV Singapore, the detachment's carrier. At 100,000 tons displacement, and carrying ten fighter and two bomber squadrons, it was a formidable warship. Not something you normally used on a babysitting run, but when it came down to it, 'showing the flag' was something you did to make an impression. But Wayneright couldn't help but feel like the mission was ridiculous. You don't send a carrier or an escort run.

Until now, most human colonization had focused on nearby star systems. Places like Prometheus, Nusku, and Lagash already boasted growing populations that had emigrated to these worlds using FTL drives instead of trying to apply for permission from the Systems Alliance to use the Charon Mass Relay. But in addition to major worlds, there were dozens of other systems that held mining and industrial colonies, research out posts and recluse colonies. The Alliance had estimated that almost 5 million people had taken advantage of the new FTL technology and corporate sponsors to emigrate outside the Sol System. Much of this ahead of the Systems Alliance scouting relays. There were already reports coming in from the Vega system that the colonists had found something there that wasn't human…and that a scout vessel was going to be dispatched to investigate. Wayneright knew that there was a hunger to expand beyond earth, and most humans wanted to see the stars that were high above, rather than live in the creeping slums which held much of the world's population.

The Systems Alliance Space Agency had almost two _billion_ applicants for colony ships, and with the earth population topping fifteen billion, it wouldn't be hard to expand into colony worlds, the eager anticipation of the launch of the 'Humanity's Progress' was the hope that there would be greater opportunities to emigrate to empty worlds…and there were a lot of empty worlds out there. Wayneright had seen the briefing reports from the scouting craft that had been jumping through the Mass Relays and exploring the Galaxy. The current drive was for 'garden' worlds that could sustain human populations, but there were worlds with untouched resources just waiting to be exploited. In just four years, Wayneright knew that off world colonization corporations had sprung up and made use of the 'open source' FTL tech…but despite the profitability of the more local trade they were chomping at the bit to have permission to transit the Charon Relay.

Wayneright understood the concerns in the Alliance Navy. The fleet was tiny, pretty much only a single carrier, a few cruisers and frigates, and a handful of lighter Corvettes and patrol ships. The main shipbuilding drive had been focused into covert scouts to explore. Naval High Command was concerned at the fleet's capability to deal with possible threats…especially since the bulk of the intelligence the Systems Alliance had on 'possible' threats came from a Salarian prisoner and an incomplete Salarian archive. Everyone was nervous about just what was lurking, the Navy brass at the front of the line. They had as much gung-ho spirit as anyone else, but they weren't stupid. A carrier wouldn't be enough to fend off a determined Salarian attack. They needed more ships, more crews, more bases. The Alliance Army didn't have as many worries as the Navy, they had hundreds of divisions, millions of soldiers…they were ready…or at least they thought they were.

Wayneright had sat in on the threat briefings, he'd seen just what the Alliance Navy had to work with, and just how nebulous their estimations about what might be out there were. It ranged from limited commando forces to naval vessels ten kilometers long. All of it was insane, all of it was worry over the unknown…so the Navy was screaming for more ships, and the Parliament was more than willing to oblige them, Wayneright knew that over two dozen new Cruiser hulls were under construction, all of them in the 50,000 ton range, and with them, five more Carriers were in production. Frigates and Corvettes were also under construction in much higher numbers. A 4,000 ton frigate or a 500 ton corvette might not seem like much…but they were vital to the Alliance Navy's space doctrine. Wayneright knew that in six months, the navy would be a force to be reckoned with, enough to many anybody stand up and take notice…but for now…they were spread thin.

"Commander Wayneright, please report to briefing room Delta six." Wayneright heard over the station's com system. He was surprised, the official depature briefing wasn't for another hour…but, the Commander's mind drifted back to four years ago and he couldn't help but wonder if something else unexpected had happened and he was going to be first on the scene. The New Mexico native made his way through the massive station, grateful that he was close to a transit unit and climbed into the pod along with several techs as it quickly took off towards the Delta section of the space docks where the Carrier Singapore and her escorts were docked. It was a quick journey, and Wayneright disembarked, walking along the hallway. Overhead he noticed other names being summoned to the briefing room, all of them either commanders of the Singapore's fighter squadrons or command staff of the flotilla. Wayneright sensed something…awry…

"Well Wayne, what do you think it is?" Called Commander Dantanna from behind him. The lead pilot of one of the Singapore's bomber squadrons, he was part of the carrier's heavy fist, tasked to delivering warheads against whatever target was necessary. Much like the old fashioned Carrier battles of the Second World War in the Pacific, Alliance doctrine was for fighters to be the primary arm of decision in a space battle with the fleet closing to 'gun range' for the mopping up. The doctrine had yet to be tested against an enemy fleet, which meant Dantanna's ability to actually take down an alien capital ship was theoretical…like the rest of the Navy's planning…

…but shove an Antimatter warhead up somebody's ass, they notice…as Dantanna paraphrased so eloquently one evening over drinks. Wayneright admired the spirit at least.

"Alien invasion probably." Wayneright said calmly and evenly as he fell into step with the German pilot. Dantanna looked over at him for a moment and then laughed loudly.

"Sure, just tease me why don't you. Make me think I'm getting a chance to actually live fire at something hostile. You know how much I want to make a bang." He said with a chuckle and feigned annoyance.

"No idea Dantanna, but I'm sure that if we're being briefed for something, then we're going to actually learn about it. You think?" Wayneright said with a chuckle. Dantanna shook his head as the pair reached the briefing room. The rows of seats were already packed with pilots, ship captains, even marine colonels…every one of them had been part of the numerous and routine briefings for the flotilla. Each of those briefings had been public relations, with reporters and political figures there. Snapping holos and making their own little 'suggestions'. All of it decidedly un-military. All of it a circus.

This however…Wayneright looked over his shoulder and he saw two Marines standing in full battle armor, each one carrying a blaster rifle. The pilot blinked in surprise at that. Blasters were the standard shipboard combat arms, the weapons that every Naval rating and marine learned to use. They were brutal weapons, firing a pulse of charged particles on a laser beam…they were excellent for zero-g combat, no recoil, they diffused after about two hundred meters…and they tended to do horrific damage. Seeing two marines in full armor carrying a pair of carbines, and guarding the door…that made this briefing far from routine PR.

Wayneright settled into one of the seats, he cast a final glance over at the armored Marines as they checked the last arrivals and then stepped outside, sealing the door. The pilot shifted and then forced himself to relax, he could feel the tension in the air as Admiral Groves stepped up to the lectern at the front of the room. One of the first 'space admirals' he had earned his position after writing Alliance tactical and strategic doctrine for space operations. Even if his work had been mostly theoretical, he was a genius, and he'd been selected to command the flotilla. The expression on his face was not one that any man in the room had ever expected to witness.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I regret to inform you that our cruise to the Exodus system will not be taking place." Groves said simply and turned on the holo projector next to him. The image flared to life and the local system view of earth panned out to show a sector based view, parsecs measured on it. Wayneright saw Sol marked clearly, along with another system.

"This is the star system Vega, most notably, Muan Gwi as the locals call it." Groves said, and the sharp intake of breath from a few officers in the room was echoed by Wayneright. Human settlements were labeled on that map…and there was none at Muan Gwi.

"Human settlers expanding towards Vega came into contact with a local population on Muan Gwi who call themselves Vegans. They're at an early level of spaceflight and have one extra-solar colony world, Muan Issler a parsec away from their home star. The locals are friendly and interested in positive relations with the Systems Alliance. Given the delicate nature of this first contact, our flotilla will be escorting a diplomatic team to make 'official' contact with the Vegans. The hope is that we can impress them with our position for a more positive situation. Absolutely no threat is posed by the Vegans, it's not believed that they have access to Nuclear ordinance or directed energy weapons." Groves said in a deliberate narrative. As he spoke, an image appeared on the display holo and on the small readers in front of every officer. It was an alien, and not one that the Systems Alliance was familiar with. It didn't match any of the known species that had been on the Salarian data files…

The creature stood at approximately seven foot tall, and was vaguely humanoid. The head didn't boast a mouth, nose or ears, simply a pair of 'eyes' in a fleshy hood that made up the head. It was capable of pivoting more like a cowl than an actual head on a neck. The mouth seemed to be set in the middle of the alien's chest, on either side appeared to be two other slits for breathing. The arms of the creature didn't end in hands, instead, at the 'elbow' of the alien, three long tentacles resided instead. It's flesh was a greenish brown, and was clad in a red robe. All in all it looked quite 'alien'. Wayneright studied the creature and looked up.

"Admiral, these creatures…how technologically advanced are they?" He asked the admiral.

"Approximately, they're on the level of most industrialized nations in the west at about the 1950's, without Nuclear weapons. They're a unified government, so they lack the balkanization that we needed to advance rapidly. They're exceptionally friendly and seem open to negotiation and trade. The presence of the flotilla is simply to over-awe." Groves responded.

"Admiral, are we preparing for military contingencies?" Colonel Marko asked from his seat. The Marine was clearly examining the short vid of the Vegan with an eye to killing the creature if necessary.

"No Colonel, we are not. The decision has been made that the Vegans will be treated civilly and approached as equals. The Systems Alliance is not going to develop a habit of conquering anything we bump into. Actions like that will eventually make us more enemies than we can handle."

"But, the Alliance is about humans…" Colonel Marko began, but was cut off by Captain James of the SSV Tokyo, one of the flotilla's cruisers.

"No Colonel, we're about people. Aliens are people two, just different. Five years ago, anyone different _was _an enemy, but we sure as hell got past that." James said pointedly to a few nods. Most of the men and women in the room had vivid memories of the time before the Systems Alliance, invoking the memory of that was a sobering one…

"Besides, if the situation was reversed, we wouldn't like them jumping on us and deciding they were going to conquer the savages, would we?" Dantanna said in his ever so un-subtle style. It got a laugh from the briefing room and was enough for Colonel Marko to save face and smile himself.

"Alright, now that we're not plotting the invasion of Muan Gwi, the heart of the briefing is simple, we will be escorting the diplomatic detail, and providing security over the Vegan Homeworld as a demonstration of our fleet. It's not much, but it's more than the Vegans have. Other than that, we will be ship board-"

"No shore leave! Bummer!" Came the whispered voice of Colonel Ortega from one side of the room. Admiral Groves scowled slightly at the whisper, but didn't comment.

"Primarily because we don't know anything about Vegan biology, their ecosystem or whether the food is safe to eat, the water safe to drink, or the females safe to hit on. The flotilla will depart in three hours, so I suggest you all return to your ships and get ready before we make way. First Contact with an alien species isn't something that you get to do every day officers. Let's make sure that we put the best foot of the Alliance Navy forward. Dismissed." Groves said and left the podium. As Wayneright stood, he looked at the display holo across the room. The distance between Earth and Muan Gwi was barely twelve parsecs…in the terms of the universe, it wasn't across the street, it was down the hall. Aliens, in humanity's back yard…friendly aliens at that. The professional in Wayneright took over and he knew that they wouldn't all be friendly, in fact…even these might not be friendly…time would tell.

**2070, SSV Singapore, Flagship of the 1st Flotilla, Hyperspace en-route to Muan Gwi**

It's hard to describe hyper drive. It's a sensation that's in the background of your mind…not quite the falling sensation of zero-g. It's more like a haze…something in your brain that you know is there, you know your mind is working a little differently…but you can't do anything about it. Like the wisps of a cobweb across your consciousness, a subtle feeling of 'this isn't right' echoing in your brain. From the first FTL tests undertaken a decade prior by the UES, hyperspace travel had always instilled an uneasy sensation for humans. Hyperspace wasn't a dimension that was a part of the four humans knew. No depth, no width, no height, no time. Nothing about it could equate to the normal human condition. It was akin to trying to describe color to the blind, noise to the deaf. Most crew who were aboard ship in hyperspace tried not to think about it, the Systems Alliance Navy went with the older concept of 'busy work' aboard ships. Keeping regular tasks like custodial duties and ships repair duties manpower intensive with the old axiom that a busy mind was the best.

Those who didn't get stuck scrubbing decks and making endless repair and maintenance checks as one of the numerous 'gangs' were tasked with training in an almost endless series of drills. Aboard the SSV Singapore, that meant that there was always activity. From the hangar decks where the flight ops were being repeatedly drilled in everything from fighter fueling and re-arming to clearing wreckage, to the ship's marine compliment 'acquiring' portions of the ship to run boarding and counter-boarding drills. Systems Alliance Ships didn't let you sit around doing nothing, it was too dangerous when you were in hyperspace. So just like the rest of the crew aboard the Singapore, Commander Wayneright was carrying out his own drills. Which was why he was sitting in the main pilot's ready room off the main flight deck. Aboard an Carrier, the flight deck was situated at the keel of the ship along the center line, primarily for the way the design had bee adopted. Unlike the wet navy, vacuum operations were exponentially more dangerous, especially when you were trying to launch a fighter and retrieve it.

Wayneright sat about as comfortably as he could in his flight armor. Even if the chairs in the pilot's waiting room were designed to be comfortable to men and women in full flight gear, he never liked it…the ass plate of the armor _always _dug into inconvenient places…He glanced up at the display holo at the front of the room which was playing a movie, and then looked around at the other pilots who were trying to read magazines or books on their pads. All in all, it was an accurate approximation of a squadron 'standing too' in case of launch. Men and women who were bored out of their minds but trying to keep focused and alert…pure stress, not knowing when the alarm was going to sound. It wasn't fun, but damn, it made you stop worrying about the hyperspace fuzz. The pilot leaned his head back and rested his hands on either side of the helmet in his lap, trying to nap was as good an option as-

The scramble alarm cut through Wayneright's attempt at sleep and he jumped to his feet, slamming his helmet on and feeling it automatically seal. Moving out of his seat he hit the entry lock first and went through the maglock shield at a run. His eyes glanced about at the rainbow armored deck crewmen working in the hangar, the color scheme reminiscent of that used by the US Navy carrier crews almost seventy years ago. He sprinted into the massive hangar and towards his F-205 Raptor sitting idle as the Green armored flight crew made their own checks on the fighter in their own drill. A four man crew of ordinance handlers was under the weapons bay of the Raptor checking the simulated load out of missiles. The leader of the team knelt to the deck plate in his red combat armor and gave a thumbs up to the brown armored plane captain. The flight crew cleared the fighter in under a minute as Wayneright reached the boarding ladder and climbed up into the sleek cockpit to strap in.

Around him in the bay the other pilots were clambering into their fighters and locking down as the drill continued. The craft handlers in their blue armor gestured with lighted wands, even as the Raptor's AI gave fight instructions for Wayneright to follow across the hangar deck and into the scramble line. He taxied across the decking following the gestured instructions, flawlessly making his way to the scramble line that led to one of the flight deck's dual grav accelerator launch tubes, each one designed to propel an F-205 or a B-4 into rapid acceleration and get them as far away from the carrier and any type of intercept fire as possible, and to spare the flight deck having superheated engine exhaust spraying all over it.. Wayneright taxied into the launch position and heard the affirmative command come from the control tower mounted high in the center of the Hangar's ceiling, giving it total view of the hangar bay. After getting the green light, Wayneright's fighter sat for a moment and then he slowly taxied out of the launch position instead of letting the F-205 get lifted and 'loaded' into the launch tube.

The approval for the drill was routine, and there hadn't been any hiccups or problems. For the most part, that was how things went for the drills. When you got to the point that you were carrier trained for an F-205, not much happened that was outside your skill range. Wayneright taxied back to the resting pad for his F-205 and powered down, watching the purple armored power crew members hooking up his craft to the carrier's power reserves to keep it primed and ready. Wayneright climbed out of his craft and headed back to the ready room. He checked his suit chrono, only ten minutes…after a hour of waiting. He knew that drills were necessary, but training to launch wasn't the same as taking that fighter down the launch tube and _flying_ the thing.

"All hands, we will be dropping from hyperspace over Muan Gwi in thirty minutes. Diplomatic detail and escort are to be prepared for launch in twenty, all hands prepare for deceleration from FTL, cease all drills and return to stations for Red Alert." The voice of the captain came over the shipboard com and the headset of the Commander's armor. He nodded to no one in the semi-vacuum of the bay, just enough inert gas was kept in the air to conduct sound, but the air didn't have oxygen to breath in case of a crash, no fire could catch. Wayneright walked over to his fighter and patted the slate gray armor of it affectionately. He turned and cleared the flight line, heading back to the ready room. As he passed through the mag lock, he undid the seal on his helmet and popped it off.

"Are we ready to impress the locals team?" Wayneright called over the soft chatter of the ready room. A few chuckles and nods came from the room. The announcement was something that they'd been waiting to hear since the ship had launched to hyperspace. Everybody wanted to be the big boys coming to visit. Humans had spent most of the past four years 'officially' expecting aliens to stop by with highly advanced technology. But now, humanity got the chance to be the ones appearing in the sky with a display of technology and power. It was one hell of a thrill.

Wayneright and his squadron didn't have long to wait for the diplomatic delegation to be ready to go. Most of the diplomats were eager to make contact with an alien species for the first time, especially when they had the upper hand. As Wayneright made his way into the flight deck in his sealed armor, he looked at the boarding corridor that led from one of the airlocks to the diplomatic shuttle. He knew that the diplomats were getting their own special treatment, but he didn't mind it that much. The were at best, members of the State Department with some theoretical 'training' in interspecies negotiations. At worst, they were politicians. Wayneright didn't know which would be better, or which was worse. But as he climbed into his fighter and sealed the cockpit, diplomacy wasn't the main thing on his mind. He taxied his fighter to the launch pad just like in the drill before, but instead of simply taxing off to the ready line, the grav field kicked in and he felt his fighter rise up slightly and he retracted the resting gear.

As the indicator lights over the launch tube flashed green, Wayneright felt the hitch of the launch tube's grav generators kick in and propel him into space. The pilot felt the slam of his body into the command couch, even with the inertial dampeners it felt like the chest plate on his flight armor was trying to meet up with his back plate, whether his torso cared or not. Forcing himself to breathe, Wayneright flashed his IFF once on 'Scorpion' and went from being a man in a craft to being a fighter. He glanced around through his fighter's sensors and scanned the fleet quickly to make sure everyone was in place. Only his squadron was being launched at the moment as an escort, but Scorpion saw the flotilla arranged around the SSV Singapore, twin cruisers flanking it, a screen of frigates around them, and forming a loose crescent around the front of the formation, the light screen of corvettes was moving around, their sensors probing the surrounding space.

The squadron formed up on Scorpion and the twelve fighters moved around in the standard shifting skirmish formation, killing time until the diplomatic shuttle launched. Scorpion turned his eyes to Mwan Gwi for the first time. It looked slightly brownish from a distance. Nothing like looking at Earth, that lovely blue green marble in the dark of space. This world looked browner and smaller. The sensors from the corvette screen and the diplomatic recon that had been done began to dance in his head to the unintended query over his neural link. He slowly read over the data as he flew along. Mwan Gwi was smaller than earth and drier, so his estimation had been spot on. An arid world…it kind of explained the Vegans, or at least their heads, a hood with a nictating membrane was nicer than a pair of eyes when it came to dealing with a dust storm. Scorpion rolled his fighter and he looked back as the diplomats finally launched from the Singapore.

Scorpion and his flight maneuvered into position following the shuttle as they moved towards Mwan Gwi, the flotilla slowly maneuvering to place themselves around the shuttle. Scorpion knew how to escort, even if playing window dressing for a diplomatic shuttle wasn't exactly something that a fighter pilot longed for. But he did his job perfectly as the shuttle dropped into the atmosphere of Mwan Gwi, 'feeling' the thinner air work against his fighter's hull through the neural link. He fidgeted slightly within his armor. This was really the first alien world Wayneright or any of his squadron had been on. Sure, they'd tested the F-205 on the earth-mars run…but this? This was a _real_ alien world. The sensors broke down what the atmosphere was composed of, the possible toxins and irritants, the AI in his F-205 even began analyzing the data for him and transmitting it back to the flotilla. But the sensation of that alien atmosphere playing over the hull of his fighter, as real to him as if he were sailing through the air himself was…different. Wayneright knew what Earth felt like on his skin. He'd flown over Europe, Asia, South America. He knew what an Iraq sandstorm felt like, he knew the sensation of the humidity of the Amazon, the bitter cold of Siberia…but this was Mwan Gwi, something alien…and it felt different.

The diplomatic shuttle slowly decelerated and the fighter squadron mimicked the motion, Scorpion's sensors focused in on the landing zone and he nodded, the locals had set it up in what looked to be an amphitheater in the 'suburbs' of their capital city. His gaze drifted to the skyline and he was shocked at how familiar the skyscrapers and buildings looked. They were close to human analogues, but the lines were different in subtle ways, the colors were slightly more brown, just off enough so that you knew it was alien…but the size of it…the city stretched to the horizon in all directions. It was a massive metropolis that seemed to sprawl from the built up center, like New York or Los Angeles. The sensors didn't detect grav craft, but they did pick up the signatures of what had to be jet fighters flying in the distance. For a fleeting moment, Scorpion wanted to try and see what his Raptor would do to them, but suppressed it.

Diplomacy wasn't useful when you shot down the other side's fighters…no matter how much you might want to see just what you could do. Scorpion knew no jet turbine fighter would be a match for an F-205. Ignoring the compulsion to do a few loops around the Vegan fighters, Scorpion instead circled around the landing zone and looked down at the diplomatic ceremony. Wayneright wasn't a diplomat, but he appreciated the theater of it all. He watched the procession from the forward hatch, fully uniformed Marines carrying the Systems Alliance Banner, Marine and Navy Ensigns, diplomats in suits. Across the field the F-205's sensors scanned the Vegan group. It seemed rather similar array awaiting the human diplomats. Vegan banners, and dignitaries, though these in robes and shawls that had to be the Vegan equivalent of Armani. Soldiers wearing what had to be their own Dress uniforms as well. The Human and Vegan flags dipped in unison as the Diplomats met each other for the first time, showing respect as the human diplomat shook the tendrils of his Vegan opposite number.

It was hard to tell if it was normal…but unlike a meeting of Human diplomats…there wasn't any way one side could 'fake it' to the other. Humans and Vegans didn't have the experience. The sense of hope and opportunity that was filling the receiving area, the cheering crowds, the warm attitude between the Vegans and humans down there…it was all real.

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_A/N: Alright, everyone's been patient enough, I'll get to the First Contact War with the Turians in the next chapter. I have my own reasons for introducing the Vegans to humanity, they'll become apparent in a few chapters._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N; Wow, thanks for all the reviews I know a few of you have made excellent points about some things I've written and I'm grateful for the feedback. And don't worry, quite a few of the issues that have come up in your reviews are things that I had my own concerns with.**

**Sub note: I tried very hard to run down anything on General Williams, physical description, name, age, anything. But no dice on the Mass Effect Wiki, and I figured if it was anywhere, it was there. Same thing on Shanxi, Turians involved, that kind of thing. So I'm winging it on this one a bit more than usual. **

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**2157 September, Shanxi Spaceport**

Dr. Durant held up the holo tablet and checked off a few notes with his stylus. He never exactly liked paperwork (a term that persisted for a century despite the utter lack of paper being used anymore), but he knew that he had to. Though he was much more at home in a high energy physics laboratory than going out in the field, he understood that some times you had to leave the lab to do your research. Especially when your project was slightly more complicated than gathering data. Looking up from his tablet, he examined the freight being loaded onto the research ship, one of nearly a dozen large boxy cargo craft that were outfitted with extra sensors and equipment by the University of Shanxi and the Systems Alliance Science Council. Supply crates and others were being moved up the ramp by spaceport workers, lab techs and other researchers in close attendance to ensure that their precious equipment wasn't damaged.

"Doctor?" Durant heard from over his shoulder and he saw Dr. Vizhavi striding up to him, his protégé from the University of Muan Gwi, and a member of the Systems Alliance Science Council. The Vegan was an expert on Mass Effect Physics, and had been the main originator of the mission that was about to be undertaken. As the tall Vegan strode up to him, his tendrils held a similar tablet.

"Yes Dr Vizhavi?" Durant inquired as he made a tic mark on his tablet and then looked up at the taller scientist.

"We've finished the loading and received clearance from Shanxi control to depart and begin the expedition." Vizhavi said in the slightly singsong tone that Vegans had when they spoke Basic. Like every citizen of the Systems Alliance, he could speak his native Vegan tongue, and English the 'standard' language. Even though nano-translators provided near instantaneous translation of any on file earth language into the speaker's native tongue, learning 'Basic' as it was called was a standard part of a citizen's education. Though for Vegans it was a little more interesting, they'd accepted the requirement willingly when they'd applied for membership in the Systems Alliance.

"Excellent Doctor, I'm sure you're rather excited to undertake this project." Durant said.

"Actually Doctor, I'm rather terrified to tell you the truth. I never thought my proposal to investigate and experiment on a Mass Relay would be accepted by the Science Council. I'd expected them to simply ignore it or try to activate the relay, not give a science expedition a mandate to figure out how it works. Rather exciting…but very imposing. I never thought I'd have such an honor…I don't want to fail." Dr. Vizhavi said to his associate.

"No need to worry Vizhavi, the Systems Alliance cracked hyperspace physics. We'll figure out just how the Protheans built the things. You're the best in your field at this, so I think you're the male to have along, am I right?" Durant said sounding upbeat. The Vegan shook his eye hood in the expression of disbelief.

"You're far to optimistic Durrant. We have no idea what we'll find inside that relay. We've never explored one before, simply used them to expand." Vizhavi said simply, he was more of a pragmatist than the other researcher.

"Thrill of the unknown Vizhavi, the thrill of the unknown. We don't know what we'll find, but we certainly know that there is something there to find. These Relays are breathtaking technology and we get to peel it apart and figure out what is going on inside them." Durrant said.

"Well, we know what they do, but the problem is how they do it. The physics behind it are…extremely unusual. Affecting the mass of an object is one thing, but projecting a field that does that? It seems like exceptionally bad science. But we shall see, we have the money, the time and the minds, don't we?" Vizhavi said, it was hard for human optimism to be ignored, even when you were about to embark on a research mission to understand one of the most incredible fixtures in the galaxy. For a moment the Vegan couldn't help but appreciate the Human…drive. Vegans weren't as tenacious as humans, nor were they optimistic, but the human spirit had begun to rub off on them through their membership in the Systems Alliance.

"See? Fun times." Doctor Durrant said and gestured towards the lead freighter that was the headquarters of the science staff and the 'flagship' of the mission. The pair made their way up the ramp and checked the laboratories that were set up in the cargo bays, for the most part inactive, but being rigorously checked and re-checked by the science staff while the crew made their own cursory checks of the ship systems before lift off. The ship's captain greeted the Vegan and Human Doctors, saluting both out of respect.

"Doctors, we're ready to lift off when you are, I must say, the crew is rather curious about what we're going to find out there. Though they're glad that we'll have a few escorts, even if it is just a Mass Relay…no telling what's out there." The Captain said with a slight smile on his features. It was no secret that there were possible pirates out there, despite the System Alliance's very strenuous efforts to control the issue and limit their technology…and pirates knew that research equipment would be a very valuable, even if they weren't smart enough to realize it was going to be hard to sell. But three corvettes and a frigate would be plenty to keep off any light raiders.

The SSV Ardennes was already in orbit. Weighing in at 5,000 displacement tons and hold a crew of a hundred, the hundred and fifty meter long arrowhead shaped Frigate was a standard fixture when it came to anti-piracy patrols. Well armored, well shielded, in addition to being fast and agile, they were normally tasked as recon and maneuver forces when working with the fleet. Armed with five phaser banks, four missile magazines, a main torpedo launcher and a battery of laser point defenses, a standard Frigate was a vicious craft to face in a melee. Accompanying the Ardennes were three light escort Corvettes, the lightest craft that held an FTL drive. Twin phaser batteries, and a missile magazine were all the weapons they could boast, but with laser point defenses, shields and armor, they were dangerous…which was surprising since they crammed all those weapons, armor, and a crew of twenty in a craft that was only 50 meters long and had 900 displacement tons arrayed in the same elongated arrowhead as a frigate. It wasn't a carrier fleet, it wasn't cruisers, or battleships or battle cruisers, or carriers of any stripe, but it was plenty to watch scientists exploring a Mass Relay.

"Let's get going Captain, we have a mystery to unravel." Durrant said with a smile, earning a hood shake from his Vegan associate. The pair moved to the lounge area of the craft and settled in for lift off. The other research staff made their way to their own jump couches and carried on their own discussions as Durrant and Vizhavi gazed out the armored windows at the Shanxi Spaceport bustling around them with outgoing and incoming traffic. Not known for it's industry or agriculture, Shanxi was shaping up to be a major trade hub in the sector. Founded more as a place to 'bleed off' excess Humans and Vegans and to ease the population strain on their homeworlds, Shanxi had a breathable atmosphere and fertile soil. It was mainly considered the 'last' bastion of civilized human territory before you began to get into more 'wild' frontier settlements. Economically speaking, the colony had a decent agricultural and industrial base, enough to make it mainly self sufficient, but it hadn't made a name for itself in any other respect aside from being home to almost four million Humans and two million Vegans, the majority of them emigrants from their homeworlds.

Although it had been colonized for almost fifty years, the colony didn't boast much of a military presence from the Systems Alliance Army, nor did it have any kind of major Naval presence. The colonists preferred to think of themselves as a 'rural town' not somewhere that needed the navy or the army. The Parliament was looking at trying to convince the Planetary government that they should permit more than a single Reserve Corps on garrison, and to let the Systems Alliance Navy build a fleet base in orbit. But for now, there was little that the world worried about. The people had a nice quiet world, far from the stress of a packed Earth or Mwan Gwi, they had the lifestyle they wanted, no problems, no hassles. Far enough to avoid the congestion of the core worlds, close enough to avoid the unknown of the frontier.

As the freighter lifted off out of the spaceport, Dr Durrant looked out the window and took a cursory look at Shanxi's capital city. Bordered on the north and the east by mountains, and on the south and west by a wide river, the city's center of skyscrapers and arcologies was well defended against ground assault. It was the original plan when Shanxi had been first laid out was for a well defended settlement. But when six million people settle on your world, a nice neat plan doesn't work. With three million people inhabiting the capital, the perimeter structures stretched out for miles, sprawling suburbs and smaller complexes. The other three million were scattered around the planet in agricultural and mining towns. Durrant enjoyed the life on Shanxi, even if it wasn't as prestigious a place to be a Professor at than the University of Terra. But Earth was still crowded, and Shanxi had a rough beauty to it.

"Lost in your thoughts Durrant?" Vizhavi asked with a chuckle.

"No, just thinking of Shanxi is all. We've got a beautiful world here." Durrant said idly, then leaned back and looked at his tablet.

"Yes, it's a beautiful place. So very green and lush." Vizhavi said, Muan Gwi was an arid world, not quite a desert, but it wasn't exactly a jungle world, or one overflowing with agriculture. The Vegan kept looking down at Shanxi as the freighter lifted into orbit, his eyes surveying the rolling green plains, the thick forests, and Shanxi's large deep blue ocean. It wasn't quite Earth, the shade was slightly off the normal green, the blue ocean wasn't covering the bulk of the surface. But it was a beautiful world none the less.

"Don't worry it'll be there when we get back." Durrant said with a smile and lifted his tablet to work on several calculations while the freighter rendezvoused with the Ardennes in orbit and the three Corvettes. They were waiting in formation and after a few communications with the small fleet of freighters, they aligned as a group and jumped into hyperspace towards the deactivated Relay.

**2157 September, Shanxi-Theta Mass Relay**

There's something that is awe inspiring when you first drop out of hyperspace and see a structure that was in existence when Humans were busy hunting with bone spears…something that's immense, a structure that worked, perfectly and exactly after fifty millennia. Even a deactivated Mass Relay, dark and dead in space, it is awesome. A monolith of dimensions that the human mind can't comprehend readily. The thought that such a massive structure was created by mortal creatures and not in the fires of the big bang. It was built by mortal hands, with mortal means. But still, flying along it's surface, seeing something hundreds of kilometers long that dwarfed even a massive Super Carrier. It was the symbol of everything the Protheans were to humans, larger than life, ancient, and something to be explored.

"Big mother, isn't it?" The captain said softly. Mass Relays weren't something that starship pilots gawked at for very long. Of course, there was the fact that they were immense and used constantly for long distance hops, but the fact was that you tended to have it blend into the background. You didn't think about it. No matter how spectacular they were, you just began to get used to it all. For the average traveler, sure, it was a big deal, but a long range cargo hauler? It was more important to make sure the jump was going to go alright and that all the ships systems were ready. But here, when the only reason you were coming to the Mass Relay was to probe it's secrets, you couldn't help but be curious about it. Especially when it was looming out of space before you, only lit by the dim light of a distant star.

"There it is Doctor. Quite a sight, isn't it?" Dr. Durrant said looking out the front viewport of the freighter. The captain and bridge crew nodded slowly. Surprisingly, many of the scientists had never even seen a Mass Relay, most of them being born and raised entirely on Shanxi. This was a first for many and the gawking at the viewports in the lounge sections was elbow to elbow in some of the freighters. But Durrant had seen it all before, and it still took his breath away.

"SSV Ardennes, this is Halcyon Pride with Dr Durrant aboard, are you ready for mission start?" The Freighter Captain asked over the ship's com to the Alliance Frigate.

"Confirmed Halcyon, we detect no anomalous readings or potential hostiles. We're going to take up station and patrol while you do your work."

"Thank you Ardennes, we'll try and be quick."

"Roger Halcyon, but I think we'll be here a while." The Ardennes comm officer finished and the link went silent. The Freighter's captain accelerated closer to the relay, slowly eating up the distance between the diminutive two hundred meter long, 1,000 dton freighter, and the ten kilometer long, multi _trillion_ ton Mass Relay. For a long time, it felt like the freighter was simply hanging in space, not getting closer not moving, simply resting in place. Almost imperceptibly slowly, the Mass Relay grew in size, eventually filling the viewport and growing to singularly dwarf the freighter looming before it like a leviathan.

"Alright Doc, where exactly do you want us to go?" The captain asked his eyes becoming wary at the close proximity to the Mass Relay, it was close enough that the spotlights from the freighter illuminated the hull of the construct as it hung dark and lifeless in space. For a fleeting moment, Durrant felt as if they were buzzing close to a sleeping giant, who needed only the slightest provocation to awaken from it's slumber and strike at them. The scientist shook his head at the thought and rubbed his forehead. For some reason he had a headache, strange.

"Well, Dr. Vizhavi theorized that we should get closer to the central core of the Relay and launch probes to begin examining the Relay. He postulates that there has to be some kind of internal structure to the Relay that will give us access to it's workings." Durrant explained, despite his headache. He shook his head slightly in annoyance and saw the Captain do the same.

"That's strange…why did this come up…" The Captain muttered, guiding his vessel towards the normally illuminated core of the Relay, intent on positioning his ship as the Scientist wished.

"Captain, I have a message from the Ardennes, they've detected unknown vessels." The comm chirped softly. Dr. Durrant blinked in surprise, they'd just gotten here, who in space could be showing up.

"Unknown? You mean they don't know who they are, right?" The captain asked, his hand drifting over the holo display to bring up the sensor feed from the Ardennes.

"Unknown as in there is no record of any kind of vessel matching them." The comm replied. Durrant and the Captain both traded surprised looks at that. Human starships had a complete listing of the sensor data and information on every type of vessel in production. Unknown meant something that somebody had cooked up in their garage (unlikely), or something alien. Considering that Humanity had met with the Vegans, and had a rather acrimonious and brief contact with the Reticulans…or 'Grays' as most people knew them, it wasn't beyond the realm of possibilities that they might run into a space faring alien species…but none of the ones they'd met had FTL capabilities. Even the Reticulans who had been coming to Earth for centuries before the Systems Alliance had quarantined their world were using slower than light travel to transit the fifty lightyears between their system and Sol.

"This is Captain Chang of the Ardennes, all science vessels prepare to make an emergency jump back to Shanxi. We have received no contact from these craft and are attempting to open communications. For security purposes, you are to withdrawal immediately." The comm commanded with the voice of the Ardennes' commanding officer, who much to the dismay of the scientists did possess nominal command of the expedition. No matter how exciting the scientific research would have been. It would have to wait. Durrant grumbled as the Freighter's captain turned his vessel and began to accelerate towards the rendezvous point for the hyper jump. He looked over at the navigation screen and saw the science vessels beginning to move together, while the four shapes of the Ardennes and it's three corvettes moved towards the unknown vessels. There were six ships, and all of them registered as being larger than the Ardennes.

"Doctor, you need to move back to the lounge for the hyper jump…things might get a little interesting and it will be better if I don't have to worry about you being flung about." The captain said. It was a gentle command, more of a suggestion than anything else, but the Scientist knew that he couldn't refuse. Reluctantly, he turned and vanished into the ships lounge, at the moment, the disappointment of the scientific expedition outweighing the potential of meeting a new species.

**2157 September, Shanxi-Theta Mass Relay, SSV Ardennes**

To say that the CIC of the SSV Ardennes was crowded would be an understatement. Inside the command center that would have barely been large enough for a living room back on Earth in New York City or Beijing, the ten members of the Ardennes' command staff were franticly preparing. Arrayed in a circle around a central command holo giving a reading of local space, the holo control consoles were fully manned, and each one was a bustle of activity. From the first second that the unknowns had dropped from FTL they had read very clearly as being _unknown_. From hull shape, to size, to energy profile, none of it matched any known human vessel. That made Captain Chang more than a little nervous, even with the firepower of a Frigate and three Corvettes at his command…he was looking down the barrel of six craft who were maneuvering towards them and not broadcasting any kind of communications whatsoever.

"Try them again Bai." Chang said in a voice that cut over the low level din of the CIC and reached his comm officer. She was furiously working at her controls, cycling every frequency that they had and transmitting the same multilingual message to them, requesting contact and identification.

"Nothing sir, if they can hear us, they're ignoring us." Bai replied without looking over her shoulder at Chang in his command chair.

"Benning, anything on sensors that you can tell me?" Chang asked, shifting his attention.

"Unknown sir, they've got some kind of gravitic based shielding up and I'm detecting what I think are magnetic accelerator coils along their spines. Drives are oxy-hydrogen. But other than that, I'm not picking up any kind of energy readings that make sense…wait…they're spiking." Benning said, his eyes narrowing at the complex readouts on his holo display. Chang looked up at the local tactical holo and then down at the small representation of the craft approaching him. There were two types…one that was three hundred meters long and apparently was estimated to be about 25,000 dtons. It was a strange craft, one long protuberance like a gun muzzle down the center of it's spine, two 'wings' that were roughly triangular coming from the sides with multiple segments coming from them. The other five were only two hundred meters and 10,000 dtons, but of similar design. The smaller craft maneuvered forward in what looked like a screen for the larger one.

"Benning, report." Chang said, his eyes narrowed at the tactical display.

"Sir, they're firing on us." The ensign replied calmly, but sparked a very significant reaction.

"Squadron, evasive maneuvers, now." Chang commanded and the Ardennes and the escorting Corvettes scattered, the first round of the engagement missing all of them.

"Railgun, spinal mount rail gun, sensors estimate that it was a ten kilo slug accelerated to four fifths the speed of light. Nasty punch Captain." Benning said quietly.

"Damn it, Bai, hail them again and demand they cease firing upon us and identify themselves." Chang ordered, his eyes locked on the formation. He didn't have long to wait for the response.

"Firing again Captain. All of them." Benning reported as the Ardennes maneuvered, this time, a fullisade of rail gun rounds flew through space. But after the volley, the formation split, three of the smaller craft maneuvered wide and headed for the science craft. The largest and the two remaining small craft. Chang mentally designated the largest a Cruiser and the smaller craft Frigates. Chang had a nasty feeling that his small detachment might be out classed…

"Captain Miller, take the Corvettes and engage the hostile craft moving towards the science vessels, we need to buy them time to jump to hyperspace. Do whatever it takes Captain." Chang ordered over the comm to the second in command of the flotilla. He received a terse response and the three Corvettes left to tie up the alien frigates, while the Ardennes was left to face a Cruiser and a pair of Frigates.

This was going to be messy.

"Alright, last warning. Tell them to stand down or we will open fire." Chang said grimly. He'd been trained that First Contact had the potential to be disastrous. The Reticulan contact had been the perfect example of this. The colonists had been abducted and experimented on, and the follow up military scouts had been attacked by the xenophobic aliens. Unfortunately for the Reticulans, they were now a quarantined planet because of it. This was more complicated…but the aliens had fired first, and looked to be intent on wiping out the science vessels, unarmed freighters fleeing the battle.

"No response sir." Dai said quietly, knowing what was to come.

"Alright, brace for combat. Hills, lock weapons and fire a missile spread at the two lighter craft designated Frigates. Three missiles each, antimatter warheads. Fire a three torpedo spread at the large craft designate Cruiser, follow up with full phaser spread. Point defenses are at full weapons free." Chang ordered as the Ardennes accelerated towards the alien craft, moving at combat speed. Chang quickly looked to examine the engagement between the Corvettes and the alien Frigates. The aliens had ripped off a long range volley of rail gun rounds…or judging by the energy readings at close range, mass accelerator rounds. Three of the science vessels vanished in fire and destruction. It was horrifying. Most of those freighters barely boasted laser batteries for defense from pirates. They were of no threat.

Clearly Captain Miller had seen the destruction and wasted no time. Phaser fire and missiles filled the void between his corvettes and the alien frigates, forcing their attention to the combat craft rather than the defenseless scientists. Chang turned to face the more pressing engagement, and felt the shudder through the ship as the missile tubes fired, sending a trio of missiles towards each alien frigate while the more direct assault of three silvery white torpedoes cut through the void towards the alien cruiser. Chang watched in horror as the approaching missiles exploded in the void.

"Sir, point defenses on each of the craft neutralized our missiles." Benning supplied unnecessarily. Unsurprisingly, the torpedoes reached out through space, ignoring the assault by the alien point defenses, forcing the Cruiser to maneuver and avoid the spread. Chang watched two of the torpedoes miss, the third graze the underside of the alien craft's shield before exploding and causing it to explode. The Cruiser didn't buck in space, but the shields flared in brilliant blue white as the detonation blazed beneath it. Chang snarled angrily. He'd hoped for more, but took some solace in the fact that the aliens could be injured.

"Bring us in close and target phasers on the port frigate. I want that disabled. Ready missiles again, we'll get in closer before we fire though. Point blank range." Chang ordered, and the Ardennes complied with his commands as if it were an extension of his body. Moving through the void, the three alien vessels brought their prows to bear on the Alliance vessel, and fired once more. The Ardennes dodged one of the projectiles, but this time, two of them struck home. The shields on the port side flared and reverberated with the impact, taking the assault upon them with all the immobile force that physics could give them.

"Shields down forty percent." Came the report. Chang scowled as the Ardennes shifted position violently and locked it's phasers onto the alien frigate. He had to keep moving, if they could lock their weapons and fire into him, he would lose his shields fast, and then it would be over. He had to buy time…

"Sir, we're losing shielding, the ships are engaging with high energy lasers."

Chang looked at the tactical display and then at the shield information, whatever the aliens were using, they were chipping at his shields. It was barely an annoyance, but enough annoyances could wear anyone down if they kept up long enough.

"They're using their point defense weapons?" Chang asked.

"Aye sir, rate of fire is slowing though, looks like they can't afford the energy expenditure, or dump the heat fast enough." Benning supplied. Chang rubbed his chin.

"Alright, keep us in close to them, but start firing phasers." He ordered and in response the phaser batteries opened fire, splashing over the alien ships shields. The Ardennes point defenses didn't open fire, Chang wasn't going to waste his energy just yet. But he knew that if he could, they might just be a killing blow…He glanced back at the tactical display and saw that the corvettes weren't doing so well. Their missiles hadn't cracked the alien point defenses, and because of that they were only using phasers. They didn't have torpedoes…they couldn't crack open the alie-

One of the corvettes exploded as an alien Frigate fired a mass accelerator round into it's hull at point blank range. The corvette's shields had been knocked down somehow, and maneuvered to try and avoid fire…but it had presented itself as the perfect target. Chang forced himself to ignore the fact that twenty lives were gone in the blink of an eye. But what horrified him more was how quickly the battle changed sides from a vicious furball, to a one sided slaughter.

"Captain Hall reports that his vessels are outmatched and are in trouble. They just lost one of their number." Bai reported.

"Tell him to do what he can. We're tied up." Chang said grimly and turned his attention back to the three alien craft. They couldn't get there to help, and if he turned and tried to move there…he'd be an easy target for the aliens. He looked at the close tactical display as more phaser fire lashed the alien craft. The shields on one of the frigates flickered and died. Chang's eyes widened.

"Fire every battery at that craft, I want it sliced to pieces." Chang said with a snarl. On cue, the phasers cut over the hull of the exposed warship, boiling off armor plate and slicing it into segments. With a few slices, the ship was reduced to floating debris. Chang nodded in approval and turned his gaze to the other ships. He was just in time to see the cruiser re-orient and fire it's main mass accelerator. The Ardennes couldn't dodge the round this time…and the slug slammed into the ventral shields.

Chang actually felt the Frigate buck in space…then heard the horrible words reach his ears.

"We just lost shields sir, enemy point defense fire is engaging the hull."

"Maneuver, complete evasive, launch every missile we have at those two ships." Chang ordered, his voice much calmer than his heart or brain told him he should be. Despite the fact that they were outnumbered, and getting torn at by a pair of alien craft, with their shields down…the crew responded professionally. Phaser fire lit space, and missiles rippled from the Ardennes' launchers. The rapid fire forced the aliens to divert their fire to point defense again and keep the antimatter warheads from reaching them.

"Move ten points starboard, bring us in line on that Frigate and fire all weapons!" Chang barked and was rewarded with the Ardennes shifting position and bearing down on the larger alien ship. Without pause, missiles, phasers and torpedoes filled the gulf between them in a beautiful display of glittering death. It was overwhelming…completely and utterly overwhelming. The point defenses couldn't reach every missile, they couldn't stop the phasers, they couldn't stop the torpedoes. Some of the bursts of high intensity energy missed, but the bulk of them reached their target and annihilated the alien's shields, then vaporized the armor and superstructure. Chang didn't even register pleasure as they were down to one on one, the alien cruiser was maneuvering again to try for another shot, but the Ardennes was doing everything it could to deny it's aggressor a clear shot. Chang looked at the corvette battle and saw that only one was left, but one alien frigate was destroyed, another severely damaged. But it was a losing fight.

"Take us in on that Cruiser. Maximum acceleration, and everything we have firing." Chang said darkly. There was a brief hesitation, but the helmsman nodded grimly, bringing the frigate on a course that turned it into a 5,000 dton missile spewing death. The alien ship maneuvered wildly and then brought it's prow gun to bear and fired.

It turned into a brutal calculation of physics. It was a kamikaze move that wouldn't be survived by either side. Either the gunner was spooked or the sensors were damaged, the first round tore through the port sections of the frigate, damaging fuel bays, phaser banks and empty missile launchers. The Ardennes lost total control at that point, but it kept coming, firing wildly and expending the last of it's torpedoes. The rippling fire slammed into the prow shields and knocked them down completely, leaving the craft unable to offer even token resistance as the five thousand displacement tons of human frigate slammed into the alien cruiser and ended both of their commissions in a fiery explosion.

Beyond the two wheeling duels, the scientific vessels fled as rapidly as they could, making for the gravity clear area that they could jump into hyperspace and flee the engagement. Three of their number were gone, and the crippled alien vessel was firing into their formation as rapidly as it could, each slug destroying a freighter. The corvettes were gone, the frigate was gone…they were alone…and the immovable calculations of time, distance and rate of fire were leading to one solution. Only one of their number was going to make it to freedom. Dr. Durrant and Dr. Vizhavi watched the battle in mute horror. They were scientists. Something like this was only theory to them. Something read about, heard about, never experienced. But now they'd seen four vessels annihilated, and slowly their science ships were being slaughtered. It was chance about how would live and who would die, and neither the Human nor the Vegan wished to die. Ten seconds, another freighter died. Every ten seconds, and they were almost there. Five…four…three…

One by one, the others were destroyed…

…two…

Durrant's hands gripped the armrests, Dr Vizhavi closed his eye membranes and murmured something in his native tongue, a prayer. Both of them braced for the death that they knew was coming, counting in their minds the seconds before the alien could fire the last round and end their lives in fire. Slowly the seconds ticked by, slowly they crawled in their minds…each one lasting an eternity.

And two seconds before they were slated to meet their perspective makers…the familiar tingle of hyperspace crawled into their minds, and their ship leapt into the dimension of hyperspace, fleeing the engagement…the soul survivors.

**2157 September, Shanxi**

General Williams had long considered his posting to be a safe and quiet one. There wasn't much on Shanxi that you had to worry about, pirates and general raiders tended not to come in so far, since they knew that attacking a full on colony world would mean that an undue attention would descend on them from on high. The Navy was about as tolerant of piracy as the Vatican was tolerant of prostitution. But even if pirates id land, his forces wouldn't have much to do. Shanxi had enough militia battalions spread out across the colony and settlements that his three reserve divisions did little more than train rigorously…and wait in barracks. Not many SA Army or Marine units actually carried out the bulk of what they were trained to do these days. But of course, if they were actually doing what they were trained to do, then the vast majority of Alliance territory would be under full fledged assault and invasion…Not exactly something a soldier looked forward to. So the 193rd Colonial Corps spent it's time training, and waiting for their rotations to end.

Four divisions, all of them classified as 'Light Mechanized, Reserve' formations. Nothing to shake a stick at mind you, roughly forty thousand soldiers trained and equipped to fight as a mobile infantry force. It was adequate for keeping the peace, and Alliance doctrine made it clear that reserve formations were theoretically supposed to deter invasion, and hold the line in case of general assault when on the defensive. On the offensive, they were supposed to provide garrisons for occupied territory and engage in counterinsurgency campaigns. All of it theoretical, but it seemed sound, high command had war gamed it out to all hell and gone before deciding that was the best way to maintain peace and security in the colonies. Didn't mean that being in command of those garrison forces was any less dull. But you couldn't let anyone slack off, could you? The second you did was the second that-

General Williams was jolted out of his thoughts. He blinked once and realized he was lost inside his own head again. He looked at his desk and then at the holo-comp sitting on it. He reached out and flicked it to bring up the comm channel. He was rewarded with the image of his J-3 Operations officer on the other end.

"Sir, we've got a freighter designated Halcyon Pride landing at the spaceport. They had just left four days ago on a mission to survey and explore the inactive Mass Relay near here sir. Large science expedition, twelve ships with a naval escort of a Frigate and three Corvettes." The J-3 explained. Williams noticed the slightly excited way his J-3 spoke and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"I read the report Franz, they were supposed to be gone for at least six months, not four days. What's the story?" Williams asked, sitting up straighter at his desk and leaning on the edge.

"Sir, the Halcyon Pride claims that the expedition was attacked by unknown alien vessels without provocation. The naval escort and every other ship was destroyed, only they were able to escape." Franz said somberly. Williams sat in silence for a few moments considering it before he spoke at last.

"Alright, what is the status of the vessel? Did they retrieve sensor data from the engagement?" Williams asked.

"The information has already been sent to our J-2, she's looking over it now. Apparently she got access to some classified files because of this sensor data." Franz supplied, his own skepticism bleeding through slightly into his tone. Williams looked at the screen and then nodded. It wasn't surprising that line commanders didn't automatically know everything about everything. Intelligence wasn't something that you could throw around, especially when it was of an extremely sensitive nature. Intel on an alien species that could tangle with a Systems Alliance detachment and win…that did fall into the category of sensitive. Williams was surprised that his J-2 Intel officer was actually getting access to the information without High Command on Arcturus Station deliberating for a month and then spoon feeding it to him one bit at a time. But, every once and a while, the system _did _work.

"Alright, I want a staff briefing in thirty minutes, comm brief for High Command ASAP. I want the commanding officers of ground and aerospace elements, and I want the militia commander sitting in on this, also, the governor as well. This is going to be a delicate matter to deal with. I'm sure that he's not going to like the prospect of spooling up this planet to get ready for a possible assault." Williams said quickly.

"Aye sir." Franz said and switched off the comm. Technically, the chain of command for the Systems Alliance went all the way to Arcturus, in practice, the commander of the planet's forces, both ground and aerospace had overall command. But that command didn't apply to the citizen soldiers of the planetary militia. Those were limited to the planetary governor except in extreme situations. Unless those situations came up, most planetary governors tended to view Army or Naval forces as an…imposition. They were there because they had to be, not necessarily because they were needed, and not because a few thousand army grunts was a welcome addition to a colony who wanted to get away from the ordered structure of a central government. Williams had a feeling things were going to be rather sporty. But he had some rather broad options if push came to shove. He set those thoughts aside however, and instead checked the briefing doc that had been written up and flashed onto his screen. Thanks to the miracle of Tachyon communications and a comm station hovering at the extreme edge of the system he had instantaneous communications with any other world in Alliance space. The system wasn't perfect, unfortunately, it needed an exact location to transmit from one location to another, and to calibrate that system it took upwards of a month with an extreme amount of technical and scientific investment. But when it worked…he could real time to anywhere and speak with anyone, theoretically, even if they were a galaxy away.

Which meant he received his own message with a minimum of waiting. The comm chirped before the general could even rise from where he was seated. He touched the screen and the image came up, he knew exactly who it was…there had to have been an indicator to inform High Command that something exceptional had happened. The face on the screen was the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Technically the Joint Chiefs weren't in command of the military, they were advisors to the Secretary of Defense and the Systems Alliance President. In practice, they tended to be the best at what they did, and they handled military matters very effectively. The face on the comm was General Anthony Xavier, SA Army. Williams straightened up and noted that he'd only received word about the situation ten minutes ago.

"General Williams. It seems you've drawn the short straw." General Xavier said with little in the way of introduction. Williams blinked and his eyes narrowed.

"And what is that General?" He asked warily. Williams was no fool, he knew that there were some things that you didn't want to hear.

"We've been anticipating this kind of contact for almost a century General." Williams took in the information and leaned back in his chair slightly. He had a feeling in his chest that was reminiscent of someone slowly putting their weight onto it. He sighed softly, wondering just what he should respond with. It took a few starts before he could speak.

"Have we known about this possibility in general, or this…threat in specific?" Williams asked slowly, a distinct coldness in his voice. There was a sigh from General Xavier, clearly he didn't like the idea of keeping information from soldiers, not that it had been his idea…hell, the policy and secrecy dated back to the mid twentieth century and a bunch of countries that didn't exist.

"In specific General. We believe that this species is know as the Turians. Very militant, very dangerous. They're going to come at you with overwhelming force and do whatever it takes to destroy your position and conquer Shanxi." General Xavier said with all the emotion of someone who know they were giving a suicide order to someone who knew just what they were being ordered to do. General Williams nodded slowly and sighed, closing his eyes again. His simple position had gotten much more interesting than he liked…

"Alright, I assume that we've received the briefing information that's relevant?" Williams asked.

"The information we have on the Turians is sparse and not exactly from a completely reliable source, he did plenty of misleading during his interrogation. The theories that we have on Turian Military capabilities are already in the hands of your J-3 and J-2, High Command is already getting spun up for this. You've sent us combat data on the engagement and the navy is very interested in that. Our source described Turians as grinding foes capable of annihilating any opponent. He left out the fact that they can die like anyone else." General Xavier said, trying to sound more hopeful. Williams didn't exactly find that reassuring.

"Any chance of exotics?" Williams asked, indicating Chemical, Biological, or Nanological weapons, all three of which were in the Systems Alliance arsenal. They weren't exactly 'gentlemanly weapons' as they were occasionally called, but they were extremely dangerous to unprepared forces…which the planetary militia somewhat qualified as being.

"No. Turians are more conventional in their ordinance. We suggest against using those kinds of ordinance yourself." Xavier said, for the first time giving an order, all be it a very subtle one, to Williams about what he could utilize in the defense.

"I wouldn't, we have far too many unprotected civilians. If we're protecting Shanxi, the main city has to be our primary objective, shouldn't it?" Williams asked rhetorically.

"Command was going to suggest that you move into the wilderness and conduct a reconnaissance campaign." Xavier said, earning a blink in surprise from the commander on the scene. Ordering around planetary commanders was something that High Command very rarely did. It was an outgrowth of the advanced communications systems available in the Alliance. Technically, the Joint Chiefs, hell, the President herself, could give orders down to the fire team level, knowing exactly where they were on a world half a quadrant away and giving them precise orders about what to shoot, where to go, and when to duck. Hence there were very specific lines that did not ever get crossed by the chain of command. Leaders had the fact hammered into them through out their training and education that just because they _could_ didn't mean that they _should._ Which was why Xavier's 'recommendation' was so shocking.

"General, you can't possibly mean that I should withdrawal and leave the civilians to an invading army do you? We have no idea just how these Turians will comport themselves during an occupation." Williams said, horrified at the thought of leaving Shanxi's civilians undefended. He turned slightly and looked out the window at the city outside, the vast majority of it's residents unaware of the 'suggestions' being made about their welfare.

"It's a suggestion General. You have final discretion in how you intend to conduct the defense." Xavier replied, hedging artfully. Both generals knew that High Command wanted intelligence on this threat, real world intel that could only be provided by soldiers actively engaged in a guerilla campaign. But there were millions on Shanxi, and to abandon them to any invaders was unconscionable. Williams looked back at the screen and nodded.

"Good, I'll be making plans to mount a defense of Shanxi to hold out until Naval reinforcements can reach us. What kind of plan is being made General?" Williams asked, moving the conversation along professionally.

"Thirty Corps, and the First Fleet. They'll be en route within the next 24 hours. After that, we're mobilizing the Fifteenth Field Army for proper reinforcements."

Williams was not exactly surprised. Thirty Corps was made up of the First Marine Division, with the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions. It was termed the 'Rapid Reaction Force' capable of getting underway within 24 hours notice. Complete with transports and escorts, it was a deadly weapon to wield, although there were closer units, none of them boasted the mobility that Thirty Corps could bring. Along with the massed might of First Fleet…Williams wasn't surprised that they'd be sent. The Super-Carriers Sun-Tzu and Leonidas, Six regular Line-Carriers, Five Battleships, ten Battle Cruisers, almost forty Line-Cruisers, innumerable Frigates and Corvettes of all classes, and enough fighters and bombers to black out the sky. The First Fleet was often called 'The Fist of Terra' due to it's position guarding the Arcuturs Relay defending Earth. If that force was being brought to bear upon _any_ threat…it would resemble nothing short of divine rage in combat.

And the Fifteenth Field Army was the best…Five Heavy Mechanized Divisions, seven Heavy Armored Divisions, one Airmobile Division, two Airborne Divisions, and a Light Infantry Division (Elite), that kind of force would have been enough of to level half of Europe. Hell, it would have been enough to turn Mars into a crater.

"Good." Was all that Williams could manage. Even with the immense military might being sent to reinforce his position, he knew the cold hard fact of the matter was that he would need to hold out for almost three weeks before First Fleet would be in orbit…and he had twenty two system defense boats, three fighter wings, four reserve divisions, and sixty two battalions of militia. All to hold a world as large as Earth with a population of six million. Williams sighed.

"Alright General, if you'd excuse me, I have to prepare the defense." Williams said with a nod to General Xavier.

"The cavalry is coming General. Rest assured." Xavier said, determinedly.

"Don't worry, when the First Fleet arrives above Shanxi, the Systems Alliance Flag will still be flying over the Capital building." General Williams said grimly and left for his Staff meeting. One point remained in his mind…one inescapable point that no amount of logic could move from his thoughts. He shook his head.

Three weeks.

Three weeks to hold the line.

**2157 Late September, Turian Dreadnaught **_**Bostra**_

Admiral Varkus stood before the main view screen and looked at the space beyond. He had his hands crossed behind his back and was watching the scene calmly, quietly, simply waiting patiently for the journey to end…or begin as it were. At his command were 100,000 soldiers, fifty combat starships centered around his Dreadnaught, and a mandate from the Hierarch to deal with the startling situation that had arisen. It hadn't taken much to assemble the forces necessary for the punitive expedition. All were combat trained from numerous peacekeeping operations in Citadel space. He had no doubt about the success of his mission and intimately understood the importance of this endeavor. It was necessary to death with the threat provided by these aliens. Varkus shook his head idly and raised his talons to his chin. 'Threat' was not the proper term, their naval formation had fought valiantly, but after their homeworld had been so easily located, these aliens weren't a threat at all, they were simply a colony world and client race that had yet to be conquered. Such an action would be swift and decisive. Varkus had been surprised when he'd been informed that the Council hadn't been informed. Such actions were rather unusual, but not unheard of. The Hierarchy had undertaken such actions in the past when they'd been rousted enough or had to deal with a difficult situation. Rumors among High Command had been circulating about the exact nature of this mission though.

Some to the effect that it was more motivated by damaged pride on the part of the military than an actual military necessity. But it was hard to argue _that_ point sensibly, especially when a fleet was diverted from the Skyllian Verge along with ten full legions to address these 'Humans' as they called themselves. Not that Admiral Varkus minded the command. He was a veteran, and one more campaign against an upstart group of barely space capable aliens was nothing for him to complain about, this would be quick, easy, and he could return to hunting Batarian slavers in the Verge.

"Admiral, we'll be arriving at the target system momentarily. All ships report ready." The Ship's Executive officer supplied, looking up from the array of communications officers seated in the amphitheater styled command room. Dreadnaught design hadn't changed in centuries, in fact, the Bostra was one of the oldest Dreadnaughts in the Turian Fleet, not up to the same level as those designed with Asari and Salarian input, but the old reliable Bostra would be sufficient to deal with these Humans.

"Very good Commander. Have all stations stand ready for possible attack as we leave FTL." Varkus ordered lazily. He knew that he should be taking the situation far more seriously, but the reconnaissance probes of the system had detected no spacecraft at all in orbit around any of the worlds in the system. One week would never be enough time for these savages to create another Navy from scratch. Varkus did managed to fight back the urge to yawn though. Such things weren't done when you were in the position of command. You had to inspire and reassure your men.

"Reverting to real space in five…four…three…two…one, real space." Came the words from the helmsman. Varkus looked at the main screen and examined the system as the planets came into focus on it. It was a small system, the gas giant world ubiquitous to the Galaxy hung in the outer system. Two more rocky planets with no atmosphere, an asteroid belt, and of course the Human world. The translation was somewhat sketchy, but the intel passes had surmised that the Humans called it 'Shanxi'. Varkus did shake his head slightly, he'd heard human speech in the briefings, it didn't sound like much to him, although Asari or Salarian sounded rather incomprehensible to him without his translator.

"Detecting no spacecraft Admiral." The view screen was completely blank of threat indicators. The Turian Admiral nodded his head slightly and then looked to his other displays arrayed before him. One displayed the combat formation, the fleet arrayed around the transport ships defensively, the Dreadnaught Bostra at the vanguard of the fleet, more flagship than combat vessel. Everything looked to be adequate, no deviations during the final jump…

"Admiral, I'm receiving a hail from the planet's surface." The XO said. Varkus shook his head tiredly. The Navy had informed him that the Humans had attempted to make contact with them during the incident at Relay 314. But the Navy had acted as was proper, ignoring their hails and eliminating the Human fleet. It was a serious breach of Citadel Law to blindly activate a Mass Relay, severe enough that there wouldn't be any kind of backlash against the Hierarchy in response to the attack. But, Varkus smiled slightly and decided that perhaps these Humans would surrender. After all, a full Turian fleet would be something that would strike terror in the hearts of any species in known space.

"Open the channel and put it on the view screen, let us see what these savages want." Varkus said calmly and heard a few chuckles from the command staff on the bridge. At his command the view screen changed to the face of a Human.

Spirits, they were ugly.

"I am General Williams, commander of the defense forces on Shanxi. I am giving you one chance to peacefully leave the system without bloodshed. If you remain within this system, the Systems Alliance will have to remove you by force. The Alliance wishes for peace with any and all Sentient peoples, but we will use force to defend ourselves if necessary." The Human on the screen said. What was most surprising was that the audio was in perfect Turian. That little tidbit was enough to make Varkus contemplate the situation in silence, not that he was speechless or impressed mind you, he simply considered the situation for a moment in silence. Behind him, he heard a gasp or two, and a softly muttered curse. Clearly things were slightly different than the Hierarchy had anticipated.

"General, Williams. I have been ordered by the Hierarchy to conquer this world and eliminate the threat posed by your reckless actions at Relay 314. I invite you to peacefully surrender and have your forces stack arms and we need not have any further bloodshed. Our occupation will be peaceful, but if need be, we will use force. I invite you to spare the lives of your soldiers General in a battle that you will not win." Varkus said reasonably. Preserving the lives of his soldiers was his chief reason for giving this savage the option of surrendering his world without a ground campaign. Spending good Turian lives to subjugate this world would be a waste…especially if he could avoid it. On the screen, Varkus wasn't quite sure about the expression on the alien's face. He'd never seen a human before, and that ugly face…he fought back an urge to flex his mandibles in disgust. It wouldn't do to let the alien know how revolting he was. The General nodded slowly to himself then spoke.

"Admiral, come and take it." Was the final reply in the short conversation between General and Admiral. The die was cast.

It would be War.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **A few notes at the moment.

1. I know that Mass Effect Evolution has come out, but if I incorporate that, I've got to re-write everything in this chapter…and I don't feel that suits my story, so we're going to be making a big jump from the cannon for this.

2. Yes, I know Arcturus Station is a Sandford Torus in Cannon, but I made a design choice here for practical reasons.

3. The Aslan and the Vargr are also species from GURPS Traveller.

4. On a personal note, I have to say that the First Contact War never made sense to me from a Tactical or Strategic standpoint, or a political one. Almost three decades of animosity between Humans and Turians over about 1,200 casualties an occupation and a few naval battles? That seems a bit…ludicrous to me, along with the after affects. Humans regarded as aggressors on the galactic stage? No…that doesn't make much sense either. Tactically? The alliance abandoned the planet, and the commander withdrew his forces because they lost the will to fight? That seems suspect. Strategically? How could the Turians think a single world lacking heavy industry, shipyards, or a population base larger than a few million be the human homeworld?

So, I took some creative notes to make things a bit more logical. At least in my mind.

* * *

**2157 Late September, Arcturus Station**

It was the gateway to Terra and Muan Gwi. Some called it the Gatehouse. Others, the Fortress. But for most, it was simply Arcturus Station. Home of the fleet and the Capital of the Systems Alliance. It was a marvel of construction, built over twenty years at tremendous expense. Arcturus was the single largest construction undertaken by the Alliance, over fifty _million_ tons of refined materials had been brought into the system through the mass relays, entire asteroids had been broken down and refined to construct the massive cylinder that was almost three kilometers long and one kilometer in diameter. Other stations filled Arcturus, from He3 refineries orbiting the systems gas giant, to complete shipyards that worked tirelessly, even defense stations that surrounded the Mass Relays, tending the automated weapons platforms and anti-matter minefields that provided the defenses for Arcturus, and the Systems Alliance Core Worlds.

Intended as a defense platform, the station had been sheathed in layers of armor and heavy shielding, studded with missile launchers, weapons bays and fighter hangars, the design had been expanded considerably and repurposed with the joining of the Vegan Polity to the Systems Alliance, considering that making Terra the Capital of the Alliance would have been a bit bigoted. So the decision had been made for Arcuturs Station to be a neutral capital, much like the reason that the Capital of the old United States had been placed in a separate Federal region, rather than any of the States. It had added five years to the construction time, but it had been worth it. Now Arcuturs boasted the Parliament, the office of the President, and the Supreme court, entirely separate from either of the major homeworlds. It was safe, secure, and pretty intimidating to representatives coming to negotiate with the Systems Alliance. It had compelled the canine Vargr and the feline Aslan to petition for membership in the Systems Alliance without firing a shot or trying to fight. Both of the planet bound races had decided to join rather than face a war or a quarantine of their worlds.

Even with the new members, even though there were four species that made up the Systems Alliance, the weight of the military and political traditions within the Systems Alliance was based upon the history of the Humans. It wasn't based on anything as paltry as racism, or bigotry, it stemmed from the fact that as a Species, Humanity had the longest 'cohesive' political history. Specifically the political history of a representative republic that started with the United States of America. The American system had been created to deal with the same issues that the Systems Alliance was facing; myriad peoples, all with their own ideas of how to do things. So the Alliance had based it's legislature on three houses, one representing each world based on population, the other giving each world a single representative, and the third based on species population. A president was the chief executive, much like the American system, and a Supreme Court existed as well for matters of both interpreting the Alliance Charter and Constitution, and for resolving matters between worlds.

Just as the political system had been human inspired, so had the military organization of the Systems Alliance, Fleets, Armies, Squadrons and Divisions were standard. Along with ranks, military codes of justice, and command systems…even alert levels. Taking a page from the American and Russian alert levels, the Systems Alliance worked on a DEFCON, or Defense Condition system of five levels. The DEFCON levels ran from 5, denoting peace, to 1, denoting full scale war. For the vast majority of it's history, the Systems Alliance had been at Condition 5, Peace. There weren't any major threats to be faced or to be concerned about. Of course, during the incident with the Reticulans and the quarantine of their planet, the fleet had gone to Condition 2 (Locked, loaded, and aimed weapons), but without a formal declaration of war. Contact with the Aslan and Vargr had caused the Alliance Fleet to go to DEFCON 3 (Full staffing, and heightened alert). But it hadn't lasted forever.

With the communication from Shanxi, that had all changed. It was a War, a true and complete interstellar war with a hostile alien species. It was DEFCON 1, for most it was just a theoretical exercise, units checked readiness. They made sure that they had the troop strengths that they were supposed to. In the Army unit armories checked power armor and weapons, mechanics checked tanks and APCs. In the Fleet, ships made full maintenance checks, captains and commanders checked with their XO's and chief engineers. Everywhere, from the greenest private to the most seasoned Admiral, briefing documents were opened and examined, checked and re-checked. The same name was on the lips of the many millions of soldiers, sailors, pilots and marines that defended the citizens of the Systems Alliance; Turian. What they were, who they were, where they came from…it was the sole topic of conversation among those members of the Alliance whose sole occupation in life was the art of ending the lives of others. They knew they were good. They had drawn on the military traditions and lessons learned from thousands of years of armed conflict by four separate species.

For others, there were other concerns. For their political leaders, the question was of how to properly grid their people for a war of a magnitude beyond any had thought possible. A war between worlds. There was no way to comprehend just how massive such a conflict might be. But the duty of the President and the Parliament was to decide how to wage that war, and the duty of the military was to carry out that decision with all the skill and determination they possessed. Their Commander-in-Chief knew that they were up to the task, but even she had her reservations.

Gretta Trindle was Austrian. She wasn't the first President of the Systems Alliance, nor was she the first woman to hold the office. But she was no stranger to politics, or making difficult decisions. She'd made many during her tenure as President, and knew that according to the opinion polls, the majority of her citizens felt that she was doing an acceptable job of keeping them happy. Of course, one couldn't pay attention to those…Aslan, Vargr, Vegans and Humans all had different ideas of just what 'happy' was. But she did her job well, although for the past three days, she'd been worrying that she wasn't doing her job as well as she could have been. Since the information had come in from Shanxi, she'd not been eating, drinking too much coffee, and not getting nearly enough sleep. It was understandable, of course. Like many members of the Parliamentary leadership she'd been briefed on the Turians by the Military and been just as shocked. There was probably a deep xenophobia in the mind of a sentient being. The thought that you were the top of the pyramid or food chain, that you were the best. For the Systems Alliance, it had been reinforced. Three other species had joined the Humans, none of them had FTL, and only the Vegans had an off world colony. Humanity, the Alliance, had cracked the nut. They'd got FTL, they had off world colonies, they had discovered the Protheans, they had used Mass Relays. Who could have managed all that before them?

But realizing that there was someone else out there, a whole _bunch_ of 'someone else's' had been a nasty shock. Turians, Asari, Slarians…three species with their own galactic empires…who'd done the same thing that Humans, Vegans, Vargr and Aslan had done…and they'd been doing it for thousands of years. President Trindle didn't like the conclusions that her scientific advisors had come too. An alien collective with several thousand years of development? It was enough to give them shudder. If they had even a centuries worth of an advantage, the Systems Alliance could only hope to surrender and remain intact to spare the lives of the many billions of it's citizens.

Though…that wasn't an option, now was it? No sentient being ever willingly sells itself into slavery. Though their histories were different, though their biology was different, Trindle knew that not one being of the Alliance would become a slave to any alien species. That was the reason that the Vargr and Aslan became full members, and not 'associate members' to the Vegans and the Humans. Which was why Trindle knew that surrender wouldn't be an option at any point. Even when it came down to the last round, the last soldier, the last inch of free soil, they'd fight.

President Trindle sat behind her desk and rubbed her forehead wearily. She pushed back her long blonde hair and blinked her slate grey eyes slowly. She needed more sleep…much more than she was getting. The stims were enough to keep her going, but they weren't the same as closing your eyes. She looked up from the text reader on the elegant desk top and closed her eyes. It was a speech, _the_ speech that she had to give. The Parliament had been assembled, and the time had come for the first announcement to be made about the…situation that existed, and that the Parliament had to make a formal, written declaration of war.

Trindle rose slowly and smoothed her suit absently. She glanced around the spacious office and walked to the door, followed by her bodyguards. The Presidential sections of Arcturus Station were nicer than the bulkheads that were prevalent throughout the habitation sections of the station and the defensive emplacements. It replicated that 'old world' charm and feel that Europeans enjoyed. Wood paneling that had been shipped in, elegant pictures and statues. It was a hell of a waste, but there were certain nuances that you couldn't ignore. And the psychological aspect of walking through what appeared to be an 18th century mansion…well, that couldn't be understated. As Trindle walked the hallways, staffers and members of the Presidential 'mansion staff' stepped aside and nodded respectfully. Trindle responded, but absently. It wasn't hard for them to realize that her mind was on things a lot more weighty than social niceties.

She boarded the lift and the bodyguard keyed it for the summit level of the Station…the Parliament Chamber. Set as the crown of the entire station, the Parliament was built in a multi-level amphitheater style. With three tiers for the three separate parts of the Parliament, the lowest level was taken up by the representatives of the worlds based on population. It was by far the most numerous group. The second was reserved for the representatives of each species. The third tear was for the single representatives of every world. It was a massive chamber, built to reflect an ancient Roman or Greek design with a few modern touches. Surrounding the seated repetitive were flags representing the ancient nations and former countries that represented the histories of the Alliance's members, from the Ancient Vargr clan banners to the last flag of the unified Vegans, they all hung from the walls of the chamber, a mute reminder of the weight of history behind them. But the history and the past that rested behind the representatives was balanced by the massive dome over their heads that gave them a view of the stars high above Arcuturs. It was a subtle reminder to the members of the Alliance, the history was behind them, supporting them, the stars above were the future of their peoples.

President Trindle walked to the chamber door and stood there for a moment, composing herself. She'd known this meeting was coming, her speech was ready…but like she always did, she felt a flutter of fear run through her. In her youth, she'd had a problem with public speaking. But now, she was about to give a speech to the Parliament that would go down in history, and one that would be broadcast throughout the Alliance. No matter how experienced a speaker you were, being watched by over 90 _Billion_ people gave you some nerves.

Trindle closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath as the Vegan Speaker of the House made an announcement that had been heard for ages in one for or another.

"_The President of the Systems Alliance!" _

She took her cue and stepped through the tall double doors of the chamber, walking down the shallow ramp into the chamber, towards the podium and raised platform where the Vice President and other leaders sat, it was to general applause that Trindle walked. It was hard not to applaud the President. Especially now. Everyone in the chamber had read the briefing documents on the Citadel Council, and the Turian threat. All of it had been de-classified for them, and the majority of the representatives had read the documents as they'd been hurriedly called back to Arcuturs Station for a joint session of the Parliament. It had been to fast for the information to be leaked to any of the Multi-world news agencies. But the government had demanded air time from the networks and told them that there was going to be a major announcement in relation to the blackout from Shanxi…and that major speech was going to be made.

Even with the differences in time on the myriad planets of the Alliance, every network made sure to clear their schedule, and left much of the reporting to speculation from their own 'specialists' and political correspondents. Whatever was going to happen, they weren't getting any kind of nod from the government. As Trindle made her way up the platform and stood behind the podium, she was acutely aware of the cameras focusing in on her, but she forced herself to ignore them. She tried to keep herself as focused on an intimate presentation as she could manage.

"Representatives, I stand before you at a moment of dread peril. Three days ago, our Nation found itself faced with the unthinkable. Unarmed scientific vessels were assaulted and destroyed without warning. Nearly an entire expedition and it's naval escort were set upon by alien forces who refused contact and refused to cease their assault on a defenseless group of civilians. Though they fought bravely, they were annihilated save a single craft. They returned to Shanxi and information on the threat was unlocked. They're called Turians. An Alien species that is old, one that is a part of a group of Alien Species known as the Citadel Council. We are not sure of their intentions, but we do know that they have moved a fleet into the Shanxi system and are preparing to land forces on that world to invade. Ladies and Gentlemen, we face a grave threat, the likes of which none of our peoples have known in our histories. We do not know their strength, or their power, but we shall endeavor to fight them with every bit of strength and power that our people possess." Trindle said calmly, her words were greeted with applause, but there was a hint of nervous concern.

"We do not know where these invaders have come from, but their intentions are clear. Invasion. In my capacity as commander in chief have ordered the Army and the Navy to take whatever steps necessary for our defense. I have also placed our armed forces at Defense Condition 1, a war footing. Given the situation involved, I place it to the Parliament that a state of war has existed between the Systems Alliance and the Citadel Council since the heinous and un-provoked assault upon our civilians at the Shanxi-Theta Mass Relay. The Turian Hierarchy has made the opening blows in this conflict, but I have the utmost confidence in our Army and Navy that they will repel the onslaught against us, and win through to victory against this threat." More applause came, this more confident than before.

"I believe, that I correctly interpret the will of the Parliament, and of the people of this Nation, that we will not let this unprovoked assault force us away from our way of life. That we shall not allow this aggression to go un-answered, and that we shall wage this war with nothing short of our utmost effort. The conflict will be brutal, and I have no doubt that these invaders seek to annihilate us as a people, to face us with conquest and subjugation…but I also have no doubt that our peoples will rise up and face it with the steel and strength to which we are all known. From the disciplined determination of the Vegan, to the wild fervor of the Vargr. To the honor and tenacity of the Aslan, to the ancient warrior traditions of Humanity, we shall fight. Make no mistake, our foe is ancient, and he is skilled. I have no doubt that a species which has been in space since our ancestors on Earth were creating Babylon have a strong history of warfare. But we will not let the weight of their history crush us. We will not let them dictate to us simply because they have roamed the stars longer than we have. We shall stand tall and proud in our own cultures, our own history, our own Nation. We shall fight them on every world, we shall fight the Turians wherever they seek to do battle, and we shall give them the war they seem so eager to pursue."

"We shall give them war, and in return we shall have victory."

In the context of political speeches it wasn't exactly an immense discourse. But it said what needed to be said, and President Trindle had a reputation for getting to the heart of the matter. It was simple, and it was to the point. The Systems Alliance was a power that was more than willing to fight for what it believed in. It's people were intelligent, industrious, and capable, and all of them possessed warrior traditions that would have been sought after by generals throughout history.

The resolution to declare a state of war between the Citadel Council and the Systems Alliance was carried unanimously by all three houses of the Parliament. A further resolution was given for emergency war spending, and to authorize the Military to take whatever steps needed for the defense of the Alliance, and the proper persecution of the coming war. There was no call for conscription, nor was there a call for taxes to be increased. All in all, it was a short joint session when it came to accomplishing anything. But when it came to speeches, it was a banner day. The representatives were fighting for a chance to declare their support of the Military and their confidence in victory. It was what they did, while the military commanders did what could be done.

**2157 Late September, Shanxi**

There wasn't much that could be done. Not to say that there was _nothing_ that could be done, far from it. But there wasn't much that could be done to defend Shanxi beyond setting up defensive positions, moving civilians to defensible positions and stockpiling every round of ammunition, bit of food and drop of water to prepare for a siege. General Williams knew that it was coming, and from his command bunker in the Xenbu Mountains that surrounded the Capital city, he knew he'd done everything he could with gusto. His four divisions were entrenched in the capital city along with the bulk of the Militia Battalions. Other units were scattered across the face of Shanxi guarding other small settlements, but Williams both hoped for and feared what he knew would be coming, the Turians would hit the capital first. So the majority of his forces were there.

He'd had the System Defense Boats form up in the outer system, hiding in the upper layers of the system's gas giant to await orders to strike. System Defense Boats were the equivalent of Naval Corvettes and Frigates, but lacking FTL drives. They would be useful for a raiding campaign against any kind of Turian support activities since they were more heavily armed and armored than their FTL equipped counterparts. Currently, twenty SDB Corvettes and two SDB Frigates were waiting for his order to launch a raiding campaign. Groundside, things were different. Almost 55,000 soldiers were dug in throughout the capital city, all four Reserve Divisions of 40,000 combat ready soldiers, and Thirty Milita Battalions giving an additional 15,000 soldiers. The other thirty Militia formations were scattered around the planet.

The Command bunker was linked to High Command for 'advice' and linked to every unit on planet. At his fingertips, he could link with any unit commander to confer and give orders. Not that he would. He'd come up with the overall strategy and plan, he'd given engagement orders and rules of engagement, and he was sure that they would be followed, now the battle was in the hands of his battalion and company commanders. Although the battle was not going to be in his control. There was an old staff college adage, 'armies in the field are commanded by their generals, in cities, they are commanded by their sergeants'. Williams knew that rule would apply in full here. The capital had sprawling suburban developments surrounding the built up area surrounded by mountains and rivers. It would take a lot of bloody fighting for the Turians to get into the city proper. The tactical information provided to him had been…sparse though. He didn't know how well Turians fought in cities.

Armies died in cities though…and humans were very good at killing them in them as well. Warsaw, Stalingrad, Detroit, Moscow, Mexico City, the list of infamous and bloody battles in human history was a long one. Humanity had learned that urban warfare was one where the most ruthless and tenacious warrior won…which was exactly why every Militia Battalion that he had at the capital was arrayed as the first line of defense with his reserves ready to reinforce. Even though there were far less Militia than regular Army units, Williams knew that the Militia had an edge the regulars lacked. They were defending their homes and families, they were fighting along side their neighbors and friends. If they were cowards, if they failed, they could never go home again. If they retreated, their families would suffer and die. Williams knew the Militia was going to take heavy losses, but he also knew that the Turians were going to have to pay for every city block, every street, every room that they took from the Militia.

The morale reports from most of the units was the same, grim acceptance. The Reserve divisions were ready for a bloody fight. The Militia knew that they were going to get stomped, but most of them were ready to die fighting if they had to…and were ready to do whatever it took to by their capital, their planet another two weeks until the Fist of Terra came leaping from Hyperspace to crush the Turian Fleet. From what Williams had heard, there were a lot of wills being written…

"General? Sensors report that the Turians have begun landing operations." The comms officer said softly. Williams looked down at the map table and it's holographic representation of the Capital and the surrounding urban sprawl. As predicted, the Turian shuttles were descending under heavy guard of fighters, and moving in towards the main spaceport. Williams smiled grimly. His combat engineers had prepped the facility with a few surprises.

"Good, let's give these Turians their first surprise." General Williams said, resting his hands on the map table and watching the red tinted images of the shuttles descend towards the spaceport.

* * *

In High Orbit over Shanxi, Williams' opposite number was watching a similar display. This one in 2D rather than 3D, but for the most part showing the same information as the vanguard of his forces moved in to land. It had been two days, and the Humans hadn't made even a token effort at resisting the fleet as it took orbital dominance and aerospace dominance of the theater of operations. Varkus wondered if the human was merely a fool or completely incapable of mounting an effective defense. It never occurred to him that his opponent might be taking a third option. Once the Turian fleet had Aerospace and orbital dominance, they could reign fire down from orbital ships and close support fighters at will. It was the age old battle tactic of controlling the high ground. Without that edge, combat would be incredibly difficult. But the Humans had merely relinquished it to him.

As Varkus watched he smiled at the screen, knowing that once he seized the human spaceport he would have the perfect staging area for his forces. According to the low level over flights of the area the day before, the humans had left it unguarded. It was the kind of windfall that any commander dreamt of. These humans were fools, and Varkus smiled for a moment at thinking that perhaps when they came to fight, they'd stand shoulder to shoulder like an pre-Industrial Age army. He chuckled softly, this was going to be a fine campaign, very fine indeed.

"Admiral, the first shuttles are making touchdown." The Comm officer relayed as the first landing craft touched down.

The Turian ships were making fast 'touch and go' combat drops in the spaceport. With the grim efficiency of professional soldiers, they leapt from their shuttles as they barely grazed the tarmac of the spaceport, disgorging squads of troops who formed up and began sweeping the spaceport. Weapons ready, moving in formation, they swept buildings and structures. A shuttle dropped a squad with rappelling lines right onto the top of the control tower and they cleared it. But as the comm reports came in from squads, platoons and companies, there was not a human to be found. Not even the barest hint of resistance came from anywhere. It was deserted.

"Commander, we're clear for you to begin bringing down the bulk of the forces. Position is secure." Came the word from the surface as the Turian troops formed up and set themselves in guard positions around the main landing pads and entrances to the spaceport. All of them were expecting combat, every Turian soldier had expected to find themselves under fire as they leapt from their shuttles. But not a shot was fired…that was scary enough for them. Batarians…Batarians were the kind who opened fire any chance they got. These Humans…nobody knew anything about them. The pre-briefings on the operation had been very vague about what they might be dealing with.

High above them, larger vessels left hangars and transports, carrying the large majority of the Turian ground forces. Armor, APC's and gunships, along with more infantry. Everything was going perfectly...

…and 'perfectly' scares soldiers.

* * *

General Williams watched. The intelligence being fed from the remote linkups from the Spaceport was invaluable. Watching the Turians move as combat units told him that they were disciplined, very disciplined. Even without being under fire, he knew that they'd do well in the face of enemy fire. As he watched, larger craft began descending from the Turian formation. He'd expected this, and his hand lifted to signal the comms officer. He nodded and his fingers tapped a few controls. The 'surprise' would work best when the larger Turian ships landed. Williams was willing to wait, and watched the slow moving enemy craft as they descended towards the surface.

Lilih stood behind a pile of shipping crates with some strange markings on them. He regarded the human language passively, and then turned back to look out across the Spaceport's perimeter fence. He had a good position with his squad, elevated with good cover to over watch the perimeter and keep the area secure before they moved out. Lilih was a veteran, he'd fought the Batarians for five years and he knew what combat was like. Not much scared him, but he was still young…and when you were young, you were more concerned about doing your duty than dying. He held up his weapon and aimed it idly as he knelt behind a few smaller crates. Even after five years, he still couldn't help but be bored when he was waiting for something to happen. Much better to be moving around and advancing, fighting, not waiting.

Lilih sighed and looked back over his shoulder as the sound of the larger transports cut through the calm air. He had to admit, it was a nice world, cooler than Palaven, that was for sure. The sun was nice…

Overhead, the forms of the transports cut across the local star and put him in shadow. The first large transport touched down on the empty landing pads. Lilih looked back at the perimeter and grumbled softly. The logistics boys had to unpack the Legion before they could roll out, and that was going to tak-

The entire world seemed to explode behind him. The bright light that erupted from behind him coincided with a sense of immense heat that seemed to flash burn his skin. Lilih felt his body flying through the air, hurled like someone might toss a toy doll. He didn't know what was going on since for some reason he couldn't hear anything at all and his eyes weren't telling him much of anything as he flew almost fifty meters before landing against the perimeter fence. He crashed to the ground as debris rained down from the sky. On reflex, Lilih curled into a ball and hoped that none of the rubble would land on him. He cowered there for a long time, his arms over his head, weapon forgotten, and praying that he wasn't too badly hurt.

It took a while before he braved opening his eyes and looked back at the main landing fields. What he saw shocked him. Whatever had happened, it had been immense…and in a flash, he knew what had happened, the hydrogen refinery had exploded…detonated and left a twisted flaming ruin behind…and there were other twisted ruins. Two of the massive boxy transports carrying tanks, troops and personnel carriers had flipped and were on fire. But that wasn't just it…as Lilih slowly pulled himself to his feet using the fence he'd come to rest against, he saw that the runways themselves had been cratered by explosives as well. Even the spaceport's landing terminal was twisted into rubble. As Lilih watched the control tower, which held the Hierarchy's banner collapsed in on itself in a shower of dust and rubble, the banner lost to the cloud of dust. Coughing slightly, he bent down and picked up a rifle, whether it was his or someone else's he wasn't sure…but there were multiple Turian bodies around him, and not everyone was moving. Hefting his weapon he began checking on his wounded comrades…and wished he was bored again.

* * *

General Williams smiled.

The Turian had been a fool. The Spaceport had been packed with explosives in several service passages, and the hydrogen refinery had been rigged to explode. It was a spectacular ambush and an expensive sacrifice. But in return for detonating it all, the main spaceport was ripped to shreds, along with several of the enemy transports and the hydrogen plant wouldn't be giving them any fuel. The intel from the spaceport showed a lot of Turians who wouldn't be getting up, and most of the units were moving slowly, shocked by the detonation.

Williams nodded. The first move had been his, and the Turians had received a potent message, they wouldn't be getting an easy victory. He checked the dispositions of the Militia and knew that his second blow would have to wait until darkness had settled and more Turian craft had landed. It would be the best hunting time for his Militia units, and the General wished to give them every possible advantage that he could muster for them…and he wanted to give them the first chance to make contact with the Turian ground units. Anything to buoy their morale would be a welcome addition. But for now, he had to wait further, and smile at the misfortune his opposite number was experiencing…and for General Williams, he remembered one of the oldest axioms of warfare. 'He who makes the least mistakes, wins.' Williams resisted the urge to cross his fingers, hopefully this mistake on his opponents part would be one of many.

* * *

Admiral Varkus snarled in shock. He knew how much of a setback this was and chastised himself for not checking the Spaceport more thoroughly before moving in the transports. Now he had lost the armored and mechanized elements for half a legion due to that oversight. He growled and his fist slammed on the edge of the map table. It was a careless mistake, very careless. If he'd seen one of his junior officers make it, he'd have reprimanded the…the…fool. Admiral Varkus didn't like _that _thought at all either. He was smarter than this, better than this! These humans were barely capable of making it into space, they couldn't outwit him.

"Admiral…orders?"

Varkus glared in the general direction of the questioner and turned back to the view screen. He sighed slightly and shook his head. He needed to focus and calm down, he was an Admiral, not some Officer candidate.

"Begin moving in reinforcements and combat engineering units, I want that spaceport repaired and secured. We need that landing zone for supply." Varkus said tersely. His officers obeyed and he looked at the map again. He growled once more. The first moves had been made, and the human had drawn first blood it would seem. Cowardly move or not, he had been smart enough. The Human had cost him a day at the least, more like two. But Varkus knew that he had time to burn, the humans were isolated, he had complete control of everything above the surface, and he could bring in as many reinforcements as he needed.

It was just a matter of time.

* * *

They had lain in wait for hours. Hidden in the warehouses that surrounded the northern edges of the spaceport. It was a small unit, only a company. But they had a very important task. B Co, 3rd Battalion, Shanxi Militia was dug in and waiting for the first Turian units to advance towards the city. To draw first blood from the alien invaders. Every member of the company was prepared to fight, to the death if they had to, just like every other Militiaman on the planet.

B Company was armed like every other militia unit in the Systems Alliance. They didn't have power armor like the Marines, or high end infantry combat armor like the Army. They didn't have Fusion Guns or Pulse Rifles. They didn't have Exoskeletons for fire support, or integrated combat drones. Militia units were lightly armed, most troopers trained to fight with the standard 7mm gauss rifle with a 20mm gauss grenade launcher. Companies had Gatling gauss cannons in 7mm, along with Gatling Lasers for fire support. They had anti-armor missiles with shoulder launchers, and electromag-mortars for indirect support. They had combat armor, ballistic ceramite armor plating over durable mesh body armor. Sealed combat helmets with filters, comms and multispectrum imaging. If any of these units had 'motorized' support, it was in the vein of civilian pickup trucks and sports utility vehicles that got a different paintjob to pull duty as transports. They weren't supposed to be used to fight…they were supposed to be there as a 'just in case' option, ready to hold positions and scare off raiders.

B Company had been surprised at their orders, but they had accepted their role hungrily. They knew the honor of getting to take the first actual shots at the Turians, and they were all eager for the chance. B Company's four platoons had been spread out to give a good defensive position along the multilane highway that led deep into the heart of Shanxi's Capital. It was almost a straight shot and only a fool would ignore it. There were roadblocks deeper along the route, but right outside the spaceport it was empty.

The B company snipers had watched a few small Turian patrols moving around the perimeter of the spaceport, and they'd seen the shuttles landing more and more troops and heavy equipment had been landed throughout the day. Though with the onset of night, the patrols and landing hadn't slackened off. If they feared the night, they weren't showing it. But B Company was ready to make their raid on the Turian positions. Captain Carmichael lay on the warehouse roof, a pair of micro binoculars held to his visor, watching the Turians guarding the main gates. He raised his gauntleted hand and gestured to the snipers. Carmichael looked down and saw the IFF indicators of his four platoons crouched along the dividing barrier on the roadway. The Turians were either dumb or blind…or expected the Systems Alliance to be stupid and just sit back and hide.

The Captain looked at the main gate and knew the plan was pretty simple, and for the most part, pure flash. One company wouldn't make much of an impact, but a raid…Carmichael smiled behind his faceplate, it would be something. The Captain lowered his binoculars and shouldered his bullpup Gauss rifle. On reflex, he ejected the 30 round mag and checked, then clicked it back into place, rewarded with the soft tone of a charged and loaded weapon. Captain Carmichael smiled softly, he hadn't seen any kind of image enhancers on the Turians. The Systems Alliance liked to fight at night because of the technological edge they enjoyed. Sensors and other gear turned night to day. The Militia Captain looked up slightly…something whistled by overhead, low.

He felt the shudder rumble along the ground and vibrate the building like it was made of plywood. He glanced back and saw explosions ripping through the dark city far behind him. Only his training kept him from sitting up for a better look. The Turians had begun bombing. Fireballs and explosions ripped through what Carmichael knew had to be empty structures, but the Turians probably didn't know that. The officer swore softly to himself. These bastards really didn't care about the possible civilians in the combat zone, did they? Carmichael shuddered, he didn't want to think what would happen if any of his soldiers were captured. He'd heard the stories from human history about what some victorious armies had done to their prisoners. The Militia officer shook his head and turned back to the battle. He had to consider his engagement, not the air strikes being carried out behind him.

"This is Knight, take, take, take." Carmichael said over his comm, it was the first message, but it gave the starting point for the entire exercise. As he watched, his Company sprung into action. The heavy weapons platoon went at his mark. Both of his Gatling Lasers opened up from an opposite building, stitching coherent light across the main gate to the spaceport. The Captain was rewarded with Turians dropping, some cut in half, others taking cover behind erected barricades and sandbags. They began to return fire towards the laser emplacements, seeing the refracted beams striking dust and air particles, making the invisible beams visible. It was a universal 'SHOOT ME' arrow, but his laser gunners kept laying down fire. The four multipurpose launchers were the next to fire. Four high explosive rounds sliced across the street. Propelled by shoulder fired light gauss cannons, they sent a 30mm projectile flying through space at a fantastic velocity. Capable of firing Anti-Tank, Anti-Personnel, Anti-Structure, or multipurpose rounds, they were one of a Militia Companies' major striking weapons. The explosive warheads detonated perfectly against the barricades, ripping them apart and sending Turian bodies, and parts of bodies, flying. The rest of the company rose from their hiding places and dashed towards the main entrance, platoons fanning out into squads as they headed into the spaceport, hell bent on causing as much havoc as they could. As Carmichael watched with his binoculars, he brought up the tactical map in his helmet and watched his squads and platoons moving perfectly.

Weapons flashes began in earnest as the human militia made contact with the Turian regulars. Small fire teams and squads began to dig in and fight to keep the humans from delving deeper into the spaceport. Some were simply overrun before they could manage much in the way of resistance, others were harder to dig out. For those the other major muscle of his company came into play. A pair of electro-mag mortars. In essence, a rail gun like the small arms and support weapons of the company, but not nearly as powerful. Its purpose was to lob projectiles into the air…a simple concept to be sure, but these projectiles were 80mm laser guided smart rounds. Not a 'dumb' mortar shell. Every soldier in the company had a tactical link in the unit, and each one's helmet had a laser designator. The combination of positioning systems and designator meant that the electro-mag mortars could loft their shell into a precise location for the built in guidance systems to take over.

Behind the warehouse, Captain Carmichael heard the distinctive screech of mortar fire as rounds began to loft into the air in response to soldiers calling for fire support. Regular Army mortars were automatic weapons more or less, mounted in vehicles and fed from magazines. The lighter man portable versions were limited to the speed at which the three man crews could drop shells into them. And right now, that was pretty damn fast, a round would barely clear the tube before the loader would drop another into the muzzle to fire.

Carmichael looked at the battle and watched as the thermobaric explosions incinerated Turian positions. Other rounds landed on makeshift bunkers and the smart warheads waited to detonate after penetrating the overhead cover. It was incredibly violent, and horrifying in the abstract. B Company had a tremendous amount of firepower, all of it capable of being placed wherever the individual soldier needed it. Combined with their discipline and training, it was a beautiful portrayal of the soldiers art. First platoon was furthest in, reaching the flight line and firing grenades and gauss cannon rounds into the assembled supplies that the Turians had been unloading. More and more aliens were marshalling to the defense, aided by light armor and APCs. Second platoon was heavily engaged, their gauss cannons firing rapidly, and their gauss Gattlings leaving glowing streams of tracer rounds sweeping over the Turian armor and troops. Carmichael gave the command to his two mortars and had their fire concentrate for Second Platoon. Another minute and he'd have them fall back.

"Hostile Air!" Came the cry over the company net. Carmichael cursed as he moved for cover as fast as he could, rising from the roof and running for the stairwell down. He regretted abandoning the overlook position, but getting killed wasn't the best thing a Captain can do. As he dove for the stairwell, he saw the alien shapes of the turian fighters swooping low over the spaceport. Their gauss weapons were blazing, tearing up the tarmac as they strafed second platoon and first. None of them were dropping ordinance yet though, they seemed to be interceptors, not ground attack birds.

"All units withdraw!" Carmichael commanded, gazing out the roof door, the tide of the battle was turning, slowly. The massed firepower that the Turians had brought to bear against second was beginning to show. Tanks and APCs were pumping heavy fire into the spread out platoon, and one of their gattling gauss guns was down. The Captain cursed, casualties were mounting. In the heads up display, he made a few adjustments and sent out the revised orders. Third Platoon wasn't bloodied, they'd faced light resistance. He watched Third move fluidly from it's flank to cover Second platoon. The beleaguered unit fell back in good order, and the Turians advanced into the storm of fire. It was a sight to see…even with firestorms of high explosive carpeting their position, even in the face of a wave of gauss fire, the Turian troops advanced in good order, firing steadily, and exacting their toll on the raiding company.

First platoon withdrew as fast as they could, dropping small anti personnel and anti vehicle minds in their wake that would force the Turians to sweep the area clear before using it. Second and Third drew back slowly as the Turian troops leapt forward. Two squads were already KIA in the skirmish, and more soldiers were dying. But there were Turians going down fast as well. They didn't falter, but more and more of them were dropping, and more replaced the casualties. Carmichael watched discreetly, and gave the order for his support units to prepare to withdrawal as the platoons reached the main entrance to the Spaceport. The fire from the mortars and gattling lasers abated and the platoons fell back into the alleys and warehouses. The Turians didn't follow their human attackers, instead content to rebuild the main defenses and carry their dead off the battlefield. It was a bloody battle for B Company, but they did prove without a doubt that the Turians weren't invulnerable.

As Carmichael ran through the alleys with what remained of his company, he worried about the cost of defeating the Turians, but he knew that it could be done.

* * *

Admiral Varkus took the reports in with a brittle calm. It was aggravating that these Humans had attacked, once more while he was working to marshal his units properly. They had struck twice now, both times causing damage to his plans and forcing him to modify his tactics. He was beginning to suspect that despite the fact that he was preparing the assault on the humans, they were the ones who held the initiative. Such a situation was not good, not in the slightest. The initiative was something that soldiers could feel in their very hearts. It was a feeling, that feeling of things being wrong while the other side felt that things were going their way. For Admiral Varkus, it was the sense that the Hierarchy might have embarked on an excursion that was going to be far more involved than they'd hoped.

Varkus chastised himself silently for the thought. He was a Turian, and an Admiral, he would lead his forces to victory.

"Begin landing further forces, I want the surrounding areas swept clear of any human forces. I want ground forces to begin advancing on the heart of the human settlement, and I want the bombing campaign increased. Complete suppression strikes along the route of advance." Admiral Varkus ordered simply. It wasn't in accordance with doctrine, but they had to advance. The standard messages had also been broadcast, ordering any civilians to move out of the city to internment camps for their own safety. They wouldn't have to worry about that at least. Anyone that remained in place would be considered an enemy combatant and shot on sight.

"Yes Admiral." His XO responded and relayed the orders.

Amid the fleet, fighters and bombers descended from the ships and formed up. They'd all been given their briefings on their targets, for the most part structures that looked like they would be transportation hubs or had the possibility of hiding large concentrations of supplies. For the moment though, the Humans hadn't sent any kind of fighters or air defenses to contest the Fleet's command of the skies above them. It made Varkus wonder if the Humans were capable of making any kind of token resistance in the air. But he bit off the thought. It was better to think that his adversary was biding his time and husbanding his resources…but for what? Varkus flared his mandibles in a scowl and leaned down on the edge of the map display. The veteran Admiral watched silently as his fighters escalated their bombing campaign. Turn around times would have been better with bases in atmosphere, but he didn't think it prudent to put his squadrons groundside just yet.

* * *

Williams nodded slowly as he looked at the rotating hologram that displayed Shanxi's capital, and the hundreds of images representing Turian strike craft dropping through the atmosphere. He wasn't concerned about the degree of damage that they'd cause. One thing that had been proven throughout history was that a city was a hell of a place to try and fight in. The Turian edge in air superiority was something to be concerned about, but it wouldn't shatter his positions like his opponent thought it would. Thankfully the majority of the civilians had been moved underground for their own safety. Unfortunately, they were trapped in the capital. Williams wasn't going to let anyone be herded into a Turian concentration camp. The broadcasts had said they'd be safer there than in the combat zone, but that wasn't true, was it? Williams had no doubt that the Turians wouldn't be running a five star motel to keep the civilians safe. His mind shook off the thought that the aliens might just be running extermination camps. Whatever the answer was, he wasn't about to let them get a hold of the innocents his forces were protecting.

Williams focused in on the hologram again and watched the strike fighters begin to drop their loads of ordinance, mostly along the main highway leading from the spaceport, but others were dropping deep inside the perimeter. It didn't take much to realize that the Turians were striking at what they thought were supply caches. Williams sighed, it was a lot of wasted effort, he'd had his forces deploy their supplies and distribute them as much as possible to avoid giving the Turians a juicy target. But the Turians were dropping a lot of ordinance…and for the most part, bombing operations weren't always perfect…

"General, Chin Hospital was just struck by Turian fighters. They hit it with high explosives and incendiary ordinance. The building's on fire and collapsing sir." The announcement was calm, extremely calm, considering that the hospital was still occupied, by civilians. It had been too much to hope that the prominent markings on the structure, a red cross on white background, would have been understood…apparently the Turians had thought them good targets. Williams raised his hand and rubbed his eyes. Those types of casualties were unavoidable, but civilian losses weren't easy to take.

"Move in forces to rescue who they can. No response from our surface to air assets though." Williams said gravely.

"Sir! They just bombed a hospital with almost two thousand people inside." Came an indignant response. The comms officer was looking up, shocked at the General's dismissal of the attack, but she wilted and looked down as General Williams looked at her, the expression on his face one of sadness, but also steel.

"I know that lieutenant, but we are defending a city of several million civilians, and we need those air defense batteries for when things really start to get bad. I won't sacrifice those gun crews needlessly trying to get revenge for an indiscriminate bombing campaign." He said, calmly, but his eyes flared slightly as he spoke. Deep down, General Williams wanted to lash out, to swat the Turian fighters from the sky, and to over run the spaceport, unfortunately he knew better than that. The spaceport kept the Turians in a location that he could monitor, and if he used his anti-air units…they'd be picked off by Turian fighters…or they might even use their orbital assets on the planet. Williams was under no illusions about what that might mean. His forces would get slaughtered if they were targeted by orbital bombardment.

"Yes…sir…" The Lieutenant said quietly. It was clear the young officer didn't like the thought of letting that attack go un-answered, but the General was right, they needed to focus on the big picture. As an officer once said…difficult decisions are the privilege of rank.

"General, they're moving." Williams looked back to the hologram. The Turians were indeed moving at last.

"Good."

* * *

Lilih marched alongside his APC, eyes sharp and looking around for anything. He still had a cough from that damned explosion, and the medics had said it was nothing, but he didn't like it…just like he didn't like getting picked to start clearing structures and making the advance at the crack of dawn. Like any soldier, Lilih could grumble with the best of them…and for the most part, his comrades were grumbling about the same things. It had been pretty hellish, fighting the humans for the first time on the ground had been a nasty shock, but that raid three days ago had lit a fire under somebody's backside. They were moving out with whatever they could find, under heavy air cover and with armor. The unit had no hesitation over using the firepower that they had available. Gunships hummed overhead as the bulk of tanks and APCs rumbled down the thoroughfare amidst soldiers in lose formation. Most of them had started to get weary of the advance. After that bloody raid that seemed to have a massive amount of firepower behind it, the humans had run and hid.

Most of the troops were starting to think that the humans were one shot wonders. They'd made their raid, they'd set their trap, and run and hid…all of them had apparently. The units hadn't run into anything so far, no soldiers, nothing. Not even a sniper round so far. That was making a lot of the officers and NCO's nervous. Nobody ran away that fast…and no one abandoned their home like that. Something had to be coming. They'd advanced far from the spaceport.

"We got something ahead of us. First squad, check it out." Came the shouted order. Lilih trotted forward with his unit and broke into a pair of fire teams, advancing up the street in bounds, each one covering the other. All of it was by the book, as it should be. Lilih spotted what the obstruction was. Some kind of four wheeled ground vehicle, parked across two lanes of the four lane route. The veteran soldier's eyes narrowed. This was suspicious, there wasn't a single obstruction in the road before this, and right now…here's one.

"I got a bad feeling sarge…" One of the squad murmured over the audio circuit.

"Cut the chatter." Was the curt response, but the unit could tell that their Sergeant felt it too. Something was wrong, and if felt even more wrong as Lilih's fire team moved up to the craft and looked at it. It was completely abandoned, and every fiber of Lilih's being said that something was going to happen…something bad…something very bad… His head darted around, trying to look in every direction at once, looking at the low three and four story buildings, trying to spot where the fire was going to come from. It had to be now, the humans were going to do something…now…now…

"…now…" He murmured softly as he looked around, his weapon held tightly in his hands. His combat partner glanced at him curiously and patted him on the shoulder pauldron.

"Easy buddy, calm down." Nazac said softly. He was young, but not immature…and at times possessed of the rare ability to think rationally and know when you had to calm down your team instead of keeping them on edge. He smiled slightly and was satisfied when Lilih took a deep breath and nodded. The older soldier realized that he might have been a bit keyed up.

"Alright, let's push this thing off the road. It should roll." The Sergeant said, placing a hand on the back of the craft and making it shift slightly. The fire team took the hint and began pushing it, rolling the thing clear of the road so that the armor and APC's could advance. The Sarge gestured and the column began moving again.

"Look sharp, we're still on point." The Sergeant said and his voice betrayed the nervousness in it. They were pretty far from the unit, and on their own for the most part if they found trouble. Nobody liked being on point, but you had to have someone do it. Of course, it tended to be hard on the 'someone' who was doing it. Lilih and Nazac glanced at each other, sharing their own glance before they started moving. The unit kept up it's tense leapfrog motions, Lilih and Nazac falling in with their fire team. Lilih kept casting glances back towards the column, his mandibles twitching nervously. Despite the nerves, he kept in formation, weapon sweeping around, trying to keep an eye in every direction at once. It was hard not to, the city had a menacing feel to it…it wasn't empty, everyone knew that it wasn't empty. The humans were here somewhere, waiting. Watching, and waiting.

Fifty yards behind them, the column rolled on, muzzles of every weapon in the unit pointed out, waiting for the ambush. From the commander of the column, standing head and shoulders out of his command track, to the troopers marching along the sides, they were tense. Tense enough that none of them seemed to think much of the vehicle that the point team had pushed out of the way. One or two troopers looked at it idly, but didn't pay much mind to it. If the thing had been ambushed, then it would have blown when the team rolled it to one side. There were a few shrugs as the troops moved by it, the tanks and APCs passing quite close to it.

As the column commander held his hand up to the side of his helmet to give a status report, the vehicle exploded spectacularly. It would have been more spectacular to the commander if his track hadn't been next to it the moment the ground vehicle went off. The command detonated charge molded into the frame of the vehicle hadn't given the point team any kind of reason to be suspicious. It had looked like an abandoned vehicle, completely empty. But the five thousand pounds of high explosives had been cleverly concealed. It had waited for the column to pass by, waiting until the maximum damage could be achieved. The column commander didn't know any of that though. Even though the APC's kinetic barriers had done a good job of halting the razor fragments of shrapnel that had been sent flying, the sheer force of the explosion two foot from the hull had slammed the vehicle like the hammer of Thor. The vehicle was warped like it had been made of tin-foil, and pitched onto it's top…crushing the commander between the road surface and the turret.

Dozens of weapons opened fire on the horribly exposed Turian infantry and vehicle crews. Gauss cannon rounds lanced out and slammed into kinetic barriers, then into armor plate, reducing APC's and Tanks to scrap. But like Turians, they didn't blink, the crews brought their weapons to bear and opened fire into buildings, pumping gauss fire into store fronts and apartment buildings. Small arms fire joined the tumult, the entire unit bringing forth as much fire as possible against the Human ambush. Far ahead, the point team fell back at a run, consolidating with their unit and joining the fray. It was a bloody mess. Bodies and pieces of bodies lay sprawled on the street amid blood and gore, buildings on either side of the column exploded in rubble…and then the whistle of fighters streaking low over the engagement cut over the racket. Close air support streaked in, sending soldiers diving behind cover when the heavy fire and explosives ripped through the buildings hiding human forces. It was a bloody mess. But despite the fire being leveled against the humans, they didn't break. In fact, more and more weapons were being brought to bare against the column.

"This is no ambush!" Lilih screamed over the sounds of combat, his rifle at his shoulder and firing long bursts into the ruined building barely twenty feet from their defensive position next to the smoking ruin of what had been a main battle tank. Nazac only nodded, firing his own weapon just as rapidly and sending a hail of projectiles ripping into the façade. Over the com Lilih heard the screech of warning that air support was coming in, and both of them ducked to the ground. The rumble of the gunship that came to hover over their heads vibrated their very bones…not that you noticed the rumble when it unleashed a volley of rockets into the structure they'd been shooting at. Even before the dust settled, Lilih heard the voice of his sergeant, ordering the squad up and into the building. Obeying the order without hesitation, Lilih rose up, firing into the dust. Somehow, the humans were still shooting back, which was proven when one of the squad took a heavy round to the chest and went down in the street.

The squad dropped into the rubble, weapons tracking through the thick dust as it settled. Their firing didn't slacken, trying to suppress the humans who seemed to keep firing. Lilih looked up and saw the muzzle flashes from something that might have been a room, but was now a ledge. Without hesitating, he pulled a grenade from his pouch and tossed it up into the Human position. The shark crack of the detonation was followed by a scream that was loud enough to cut over the sound of battle. Motioning, Nazac and the rest of the fire team stormed up the stairway and into the fighting position.

At one time, it had held what looked like five humans. Four of them had died in ways that could have only been described as gruesome, while the fifth member of their unit had kept firing determinedly. Even now, the human was lying there, missing a leg and with it's armor damaged from the grenade that Lilih had thrown. It was lying on it's back, rifle a few feet away from it's outstretched hand. The human looked up, the faceplate of it's armor hiding the expression, but the demeanor of this wounded alien showed it's feelings as clearly as a sunrise. Hate…pure and complete hate. Hate enough that the human didn't raise it's hands in surrender…instead it reached onto it's bandolier and pulled a cylinder. Lilih had seen that before, and raised his weapon, emptying a further twenty rounds to the human before it could prime it's grenade.

"They're…determined…" One of the team said quietly, the unit standing there and looking at the body. None of them had seen a human before.

"Let's move! This is no ambush!" The Sergeant ordered over the comm. Lilih and his team moved back, realizing that they'd finally found the human front line. Glancing out at the column, they could see the armor pushing past the ruined vehicles…even crushing dead soldiers as they pushed forward. The troopers understood that they needed to get as much firepower forward as possible, but none of them liked the thought that their friends were getting smashed. They didn't have long to think about it however, the tank in question exploded in flames as it was struck by a human anti-armor weapon. Diving for cover in the rubble, Lilih raised his head, looking for where the round had come from.

"DOWN!" Came a scream from somewhere to his right. Lilih couldn't place the voice, but he ducked his head behind the rubble and grabbed his helmet as best he could. Some kind of gauss weapon stitched over the rubble covering his head. He tried to press himself down as far as he could…and even though he couldn't really feel it, he would have sworn that rounds were flying over his back. As he ducked lower, the sweeping stream of fire moved onto other targets. The squad started spraying fire, most of it aimed at the second floor room where the stream of tracers were coming from. The fire team's grenadier raised his weapon and fired an explosive round off, but unfortunately missed, the round detonating against the wall next to the window. The gunners shifted their fire and before the team grenadier could duck behind cover a line of gauss rounds sliced his left arm and head from his body.

"Cover fire! Draw that gunner off!" The Sergeant hollered, firing at the window, and drawing the ire of the gun-crew. The position shifted again, tracers flying over the rubble covering the Turian squad. They ducked and Lilih saw just why they were drawing fire. Another squad was rushing across the street to try and assault the building. Lilih cheered them as he fired blindly at the window the humans were held up in…hoping that they got there before…

But his hopes were dashed when the humans shifted their fire and the gauss weapon cut over the ten soldiers running in the open. None survived, most of them receiving the same fate as his squad's grenadier. Bodies tumbling to the ground and spewing blood over the white road surface. Lilih blinked at the screaming that he was hearing, it took him a moment to realize that it was his own voice screaming in rage. These humans were slaughtering good soldiers. He watched as the human gunner played the fire over the bodies, one of the Turians tried to crawl away when he was chopped to ribbons by the gunner. Lilih made a snap decision and rose up from where he was taking shelter.

"Cover me!" He screamed, and before his sergeant could stop him he was up and running across the street. The unit was firing behind him, and Lilih ran like he hadn't run since basic training. His legs pumping hard against the ground, boots slapping against the surface. Smoothly, he vaulted over the road divider, and his free hand grabbed a grenade while his left held up his rifle, firing wildly. Lilih ran a handful of paces more and hurled the grenade into the window. His momentum carried him into a dive, having him land against the windows on the first floor. Above him, the window exploded outwards, silencing the position. Warily, Lilih rose up, weapon aimed upwards for a few moments, then he ran back to his squad.

"Let's move!" His sergeant called, slamming his fist into Lilih's chest plate. The veteran trooper was sure that it was a combination of both anger at his initiative, but respect for his daring. His squad nodded from where they lay, but there wasn't much time for praise in his actions. Somewhere behind them, an explosion echoed and sent rubble tumbling from the ruins they were covered in. In front of them, the tanks were rolling again, though this time the crews were buttoned up, and the APCs had their weapons hatches open, soldiers inside pointing their weapons outwards. Lilih looked up as a gunship swooped low over their heads. He smiled and raised his fist, only to see the craft slapped from the sky by a human anti aircraft weapon. Lilih sighed and shook off some of the dust from the rubble, these humans weren't Batarians. Not by a long shot.

To give punctuation to his words, more weapons fire lashed their position.

* * *

In his command bunker, General Williams watched the progress of the Turian invaders as they made contact with the defense lines. The Militia were holding their lines admirably in the face if a determined assault. The Turians were using combined arms warfare admirably, their armor and air power was smashing the targets that their infantry was coming into contact with. But the versatility of the Militia's weapons was enough to make the Turians either sacrifice a lot of tanks and gunships or to pull them back. Either way it was taking a toll on the attackers. Though apparently the Turian commanders were ready to sacrifice lives to advance…and that was something that most commanders had to do to win battles, no matter how distasteful tit was.

Williams knew that his men were slowly falling back, from the first prepared defense line to the next. His orders had been clear, cause as many casualties as possible but fall back, keep the line flexible and don't let the massed Turian forces smash it. He had reserves prepared to counter attack, but that wouldn't be happening just yet. General Williams was prudent enough to know that the greatest edge he had would be the Turian commander's own arrogance, and his own misconception. But for now, things were going well. Very well.

* * *

Admiral Varkus scowled, his fist balled and slamming down on the edge of his map table. The Humans were far more tenacious than he'd given them credit to be. They were causing enough casualties to force him to move up the limited reinforcements that he possessed on planet. There were more forces moving groundside according to the plan, but he'd made the advance with less forces than he'd wished. He was regretting it now. For a moment, Varkus wondered absently whether the Human had manipulated him into attacking before he was prepared, but dismissed the thought. The human hadn't been smart enough for that, could he? No…Varkus shook his head, too many frustrations at the moment. He wasn't thinking clearly enough. He sighed softly and looked at the battlefield.

His formations were pushing hard against the humans, and they were moving in good order though, he hadn't smashed their lines yet…and the city was negating the advantage in firepower enjoyed by his ground units. Not to mention that his forward air support units and gunships were taking horrendous losses from human support weapons…that was another thing that he hadn't anticipated. Fleet assets like that weren't something that he had in abundance. But if he kept up this kind of battle of attrition, he ran the risk of running out of fighters before the enemy ran out of weapons.

But he had other options…

The Citadel wasn't aware of this engagement…and victory was a matter of significant importance to the Hierarchy…

"XO, prepare the Borsta for planetary fire support." Varkus ordered. His XO looked at him in surprise, but didn't question the order. Use of Mass Accelerator weapons against Garden worlds was forbidden by the Council, but what they didn't know about wouldn't hurt them.

* * *

**A/N: **The Battle of Shanxi, part one. Hope you enjoyed.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wow, thanks for all that input everyone, and no worries, you'll be seeing a few things come true that you've been asking for. Oh, and just FYI, according to the information on the First Contact War, in Canon the Turians were doing orbital drops on Shanxi with space debris…on civilian targets.**

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* * *

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**2157 Early October, Shanxi**

Making the _Bostra_ ready for fire support hadn't been an easy task. Computing firing solutions for planetary targets was something that wasn't permitted under the Council. But the Hierarchy had studiously ignored the decision of the council, despite pressure from the Asari and Salarians. The Hierarchy was not the kind to throw away anything, least of all the firepower that an orbital platform could provide. It was enough to smash any obstacle and reduce enemy bunkers to ruin…but primarily, cause a massive amount of damage and generally shatter the morale of any unit that was being bombarded. Of course, the _Bostra_'s main gun wasn't the only weapon that Varkus could call upon. There were Nuclear Warheads available to him for mounting in re-entry shrouds that he could use, form the low Kilotons to the low Megatons. Enough to reduce the human capital to a glowing crater if he decided on a scorched planet policy.

"Admiral, we've removed the proper interlocks and prepped the _Bostra_." The XO reported. It had taken a week of work for the _Bostra_'s interlocks and safeties to be removed, and for the calculations to be made to alter the weapon for atmospheric firing. The crew had followed their orders without question, like good soldiers. They had their orders and they were going to follow them. Varkus knew that his XO was apprehensive about this course of action…but he had his orders. The Admiral appreciated the loyalty of his officers, such decisions wouldn't be undertaken under normal circumstances, and the distance from any comm buoys precluded checking with the Hierarchy, but Varkus was sure that they'd trust to his judgment in the matter. These humans needed to see the raw power that could be levied against them if they decided to continue this futile and bloody resistance. In the past week, the Legions on the surface had ground through the human positions and ambushes in bloody house to house fighting.

Air support leveled buildings along with point blank fire from tanks, while infantry assaulted the rubble. It was slow, and the losses in fighters and tanks were astounding, whereas the losses in trained ground troops could only be described as horrendous. Three legions of almost 30,000 combat troops total had been annihilated, barely a thousand combat effectives remained, and that included the walking wounded. Varkus knew that at this rate, he wouldn't have enough combat power to force his way into the main city…which considering that his ground troops had only reached the river making up the edge of the city proper in a few limited locations, it would be insane to continue conventional ground operations without utilizing the _Bostra_.

"Good XO, prepare the target plan we agreed on. I want five targets hit and the ground forces to surge a legion on each position. This should force back the human positions. Did you also have the frigates prepare the deep strike munitions?" Varkus asked. His XO winced at that question. Having several frigates collect orbital debris and asteroids for orbital drops on deeper targets in Shanxi was just as illegal as using the _Bostra_, but much less directed. In essence, Varkus was going to have them commence terror bombing of the deeper human city. The XO bit back his rage, he was a good Turian, and good Turians followed orders. In one of his more irrelevant thoughts of the day, he wondered for a moment if a human had ever claimed he was 'just following orders' to justify a distasteful task.

'No…they probably don't understand what orders _are_.' The XO thought to himself, banishing the thought.

"Yes Admiral, we're ready to begin the bombing." The XO said aloud. He saw Varkus's nod and turned to leave.

"You don't approve, do you?" Varkus asked to his XO's back. The Turian ship captain turned and looked at his superior.

"Permission to speak freely Admiral?" He asked, and saw the surprise on his commander's face.

"Of course Jarv." Varkus said graciously to his Executive officer, the nominal commander of the _Bostra_, and as such, second in command of the entire expedition.

"Admiral, are you sure this is a good idea? If the Council discovers this…the Hierarchy will be in a difficult situation." Jarv said simply, his eyes gazing at the floor, he was ashamed to question his superior in such a way, but Admiral Varkus lacked any subordinates to confront him on his course of action, and Jarv…even though he was inferior to the Admiral, still felt it was his duty to point out the negative aspects of the situation and his decisions. Not that it was any easier for Jarv to point them out…inferiors were never supposed to question a superior…it wasn't what a good Turian did. Jarv didn't look up, but felt Varkus's eyes on him for a long moment of dreadful silence.

"I appreciate your candor Jarv, but _I_ am in command of this operation, and the Citadel Council will not complain about what they do not know about. After the fact, I am sure the Hierarchy will inform them about the steps we've undertaken to suppress a dangerous threat to galactic security. But I doubt they will complain to vocally about it. They didn't argue with the results that the Krogan had against the Rachni, that was genocide. They certainly didn't find fault with how the Hierarchy handled the Krogan either, they _rewarded_ our people for that. We are simply doing what must be done to suppress a race ignorant of the dangerous they posed to the Galaxy. We shall colonize this world, they will become a client race and that will be the end of it. Perhaps the Council will reward us for this as well." Varkus said in a tone that was somewhat patronizing. It certainly didn't do anything to make Jarv feel like he'd done anything worthy of appreciation. The chastised executive officer nodded.

"I understand Admiral, I apologize for questioning your decision." Jarv said quietly.

"No need to apologize Jarv, we do what we must for the Hierarchy and for the Council. These humans will be subjugated, for their own good." Varkus said and turned back to the map table, looking at the target locations and his ground combat plans. Time would prove out his decisions in this battle, he was certain.

* * *

There wasn't a combat company anymore, an entire battalion had been ground down from the relentless hammering of the Turian assault. Every unit was broken up by now, and it was more or less a morass of troopers from different Militia battalions fighting desperate holding actions, squads turning buildings into fortresses that had to be taken by the Turian attackers with blood and point blank fire. Heaps of rubble hid suicide snipers who simply laid in wait for the Turians to pass by them before opening fire into the backs of the Aliens as they passed. In some cases, the Turians had stormed positions to find humans fighting with bayonets and knives in vicious hand to hand combat. The aliens had learned to fear humans in hand to hand. For some odd reasons, the Turians lacked what seemed to be even the most basic hand to hand combat abilities…they didn't even have bayonets. Captain Carmichael had seen more than one Turian unit withdrawal in the face of a counterattack by human troopers with bayonets fixed and screaming out everything from rebel yells to banzais and oohrahs. It made for a hell of a sight, and the Turians were decidedly reluctant to sharpen human bayonets with their guts. The front line of Shanxi was turning into the most base and bloody form of combat known. Hand to hand, point blank gunfire, grenades thrown around corners.

It worked for the humans. It worked, but it had been bloody. Entire battalions had simply been eradicated to the last soldier. Right now, the majority of the human defensive line was barely blocks away from the river, and the commanders were trying to haul back their forces as fast as they could. The Militia had fought a bloody holding action for almost a week and a half, and if the beleaguered remnants of the front line got caught between the river and the Turian advance they'd be overwhelmed. Carmichael was trying to haul out whatever he could, even though he was a Captain, casualties had made him the de-facto commander of almost two regiments worth of militia, though they barely had enough troops to fill out two battalions. The building he had grabbed for his command post was one of the last relatively 'intact' structures next to the massive eight lane bridge crossing the raging river that made up the barrier to the capital city proper. It had once been a six story apartment building, but the top four floors had collapsed down onto the other two, making a very large rubble pile which was suitable overhead cover for his command post in the sub basement.

Carmichael had pulled off his helmet and set it on the table that held his weapon and the command holo showing the force dispositions. He watched the symbols for platoons and companies falling back, and winced every time one of them was lashed by Turian air cover from interceptors and gunships. He'd ordered a snap withdrawal from their positions, not a fighting retreat that had characterized the past week and left the majority of the Capital's outlying settlements rubble. The Turian ground forces were moving slowly, and Carmichael smiled smugly at that, the human Militia had taught them a bloody lesson about advancing too quickly. If a human unit got pushed back, they would counter attack with the tenacity of a wolf defending it's cubs.

"Captain…we have warning incoming from High Command, something about the Turian flagship re-orienting towards the surface." Carmichael looked up from the holo and his eyes narrowed at the report from his comm officer. Though she hadn't been a part of his company, he'd picked her up from an ambush, firing her weapon into a Turian squad one handed…since the other had been blown off and the stump sealed with medigel. She could still work her com gear though, and still had her rifle.

"Re-orienting?" He asked curiously.

"That's what they say Captain."

Carmichael didn't like the possibilities that it represented, and he looked at the display holo, his units were almost to the bridge, and were forming up into defensive positions, mostly, they had taken cover and were bunkering down. The Turians were still moving slowly, they weren't chomping at the bit like they had been two weeks ago. No, now they were cautious, and battle weary. Most of their forces were mixed, just like Carmichael's units, but the Turians were disciplined enough that they kept moving just as efficiently as if they were intact. Carmichael wondered if he could pull his units back over the bridge and blow the thing. There was no way you could ford that gap and he needed time to get his troops some rest and resupply, and maybe get the walking wounded some care. He knew that there were a hell of a lot of Star of Terra winners in his command…many of the posthumous. Without a doubt the battle had been one of raw heroism on the part of his troopers…but the battle was far from over.

"Captain! The Turian ship is firing at the planet!"

That was all the warning that he got before the entire world seemed to shake worse than an LA earthquake. Carmichael fell to the floor as dust flooded the repurposed parking garage, his command staff pulling on helmets or holding field caps to their heads. The sound of a massive rumble and screech filled their ears. It felt like the world was ending…and as the soldiers held onto whatever they could, they were sure they were going to die. Carmichael opened his eyes after a moment, dust clouding the room.

"Report!" He called, coughing at the thick air and pulling on his helmet.

"The Turian craft fired five rounds planet side. Estimates of the impacts are of a kinetic kill projectile striking with approximately fifteen kilotons of force. Same as a tactical nuke. They hit our strongest defensive positions sir, the other four bridgeheads got plastered, and the technical academy caught the round full force for us." His comm officer reported, her hand flying over the control panel. Carmichael breathed out a sigh of relief at pulling back his forces. The technical academy had been the centerpiece of his line, boasting an entire company with an anti-air battery and munitions, it had resisted a Turian siege for three days of almost constant air and ground attacks. It had been a tough nut to crack and the Sergeant in command of the defense hadn't wanted to pull out of there to withdrawal. But he'd been convinced that being a suicide defender was not the best way to get the Turian bastards. Carmichael looked at the map and saw with some delight that his defensive position had been largely unaffected by the bombardment, nearly all of his forces were squawking 'alive'. But as he watched, the timid Turian forces were surging forward.

"There are Turians everywhere! Our position is overrun…" Carmichael heard the voice over his comm and blinked in surprise, someone had kicked on the company wide comm net in a panic. Before Carmichael could respond to the trooper, to say anything to him, he heard the rapport of a gauss rifle, and the soldier's last message.

"…tell my mother I fought like a hero."

"All units prepare for assault!" He ordered to his comm tech and grabbed his weapon, heading for the stairway to the surface, yanking the charging handle on his rifle and fitting his bayonet to the muzzle. He wasn't going to hold back at the CP this time.

He didn't have a choice.

* * *

Williams looked at the map in horror. His hand gripped the edge of the holo display while his other lifted up to his forehead. A stabbing pain had exploded behind his eyes as he watched the blossoms of Turian weapons impacts. The defensive forces at four of the main bridges had been annihilated, either by orbital bombardment or by the surging Turian ground forces. Armored columns were already racing over the four bridges and slaughtering the disorganized militia units as they tried to flee. It took a lot of steel to resist an orbital strike like that, and Williams couldn't blame them for fleeing in the face of an impact that was on the scale of a tactical nuclear weapon. As he watched with one eye, the reserve forces surged in response, making contact with the Turians in vicious battles at the bridges. Brigade combat units were covering the bridges, but the Turian tide was massive. Thankfully one of the bridges was still held…despite the massive assault being levied against it. Williams looked at the unit disposition for a moment and shook his head. The commander there was brave, brave and determined. If he was lucky, he might survive. Williams took a deep breath to steady himself and shook his head, ignoring the immense physical pain that had struck him.

He should have known the Turian commander would be desperate. He'd spent almost two weeks being fought to a standstill by the militia and reserves in brutal close combat. Not to mention the fact that he'd been foiled and manipulated by Williams into reacting…

…well, the commander had reacted again. Though this was beyond anything he would have expected.

"General, we have…inbound ballistic targets descending on the city. They look like meteorites." Williams looked up, his eyes wide. Mass accelerator bombardment, _and_ orbital drops. Dropping rocks from orbit was a simple weapon, but it was damn crude. Sure, you could annihilate a target, but it was useless against any target smaller than a city. You couldn't aim the things worth a damn. He looked on in silence as the tracts bore in on the center of Shanxi. General Williams had the suddenly dreadful realization of what the Turian was doing. He was forcing Williams to fire off his air defense assets to knock the things down, or have the capital reduced to rubble.

"Clever bastard." He murmured. He almost wished to shake the Admiral's hand…right before he cut the sonuva bitch's throat. Williams watched for another moment before he spoke.

"Air defense, engage those targets." He ordered, knowing that he'd handed the Turian commander the card he'd been looking for, by lighting off his anti air batteries meant that the Turian could smash them with air strikes. They called it SEAD, Suppression of Enemy Air Defenses. Williams had wanted to save his defenses for the Turian air support once they'd moved into the Capital proper, but apparently, he wouldn't get the chance. He sighed and leaned heavily against the edge of his map holo. He hadn't slept more than an hour at a time for the past two weeks, he wasn't a young man anymore…and this headache…

He raised a hand to his temple again and closed his eyes…wishing silently for the Cavalry to arrive.

* * *

Admiral Varkus watched silently as the _Bostra_'s main gun fired, each round heading planet side sending a soft vibration through the deck plating. He smiled, as the impacts registered in the surface. Everything was _finally_ going the way it was supposed to, these humans would have to crumple under the force arrayed against them. As the _Bostra_ hammered every human unit that it could spot, the orbital drops of asteroids streaked in to cause panic among the human forces, and his own ground troops were advancing across all fronts, overwhelming the humans. It was a brilliant display of combat prowess and Turian Discipline. They _would _be victorious in this battle and the amount of force used would show the humans that their pathetic attempts to resist were in vain. They would surrender after the day's bombardment, though the ground assaults would continue through the night. His forces had the humans on the run, they wouldn't halt for anything!

"The humans are still putting up a tenacious resistance Admiral, but it is good to see that four of the bridges are being crossed. The fifth assault point is surprisingly steadfast though. Those humans are quite determined." Jarv said from where he stood, a few paces away from the map table.

"What?" Admiral Varkus asked, looking over his shoulder.

"That bridgehead there, the humans are still resisting, quite determinedly." Jarv said, pointing to the crossing point where the legion making the assault was stalled a 'block' from the bridge itself by human resistance that had stiffened considerably.

"Yes…well, the humans will still have some fight in them, won't they?" Admiral Varkus asked rhetorically. A single position wouldn't matter, his forces would overcome this defiance and crush it, as was proper.

"Admiral, the humans have begun their air defense campaign, shall we begin to engage them?" Jarv asked.

"What? Risk our fighters? No, continue the bombardment with the main gun." He ordered off handedly.

Jarv was too shocked to question that particular order.

* * *

Lilih hugged close to the rear of the tank as it rumbled forward, using it as cover from those damn human gattling gauss cannons that seemed to spew out not so much individual rounds, but a tide of death. He kept his head back and his weapon poking around the edge of the tank, firing wildly as the main gun thundered and sent rounds across the bridge. His teeth hurt from feeling that thing firing so close to him, but he'd rather have his teeth hurt than feel what it was like to bleed out on this street. Around him, APC's and other tanks made up the rolling barricade as infantry moved along behind, or hung off the rear hatches of the APCs, firing everything they had to try and suppress the humans. Lilih had gotten used to this kind of advance, preferring it to the more common 'charge and blast them out' advance that they'd had to use for the past week. He was the Sergeant now though, the old squad sergeant had stopped a human bayonet with his face, placed there by a human female screeching 'banzai' at the top of her lungs while the rest of her team was attempting to do the same. He'd tore her in half with a burst of fire, and wished for a bayonet of his own. It hadn't been the first or the last time he'd wished for a brutish human weapon like that. His own Talon wasn't nearly as good as some of the wicked human weapons that he'd seen wielded by them in their desperate counter attacks.

Lilih shook his head, it wasn't the time or the place to fantasize about possession of other weapons. He had his rifle, and he had a squad to leave. Not that it was the same squad he'd landed with though. Only Nazac was left of their original ten, the rest of the unit were replacements moved up the night before. Lilih hadn't had time to learn that much about any of them, but he'd become jaded enough that he'd decided to get to know their names only if they survived a day against the humans. Nazac hugged close behind him as weapons fire snapped over the lip of the tank over their heads. Lilih's battle buddy was the second in command of the squad, not that the younger trooper was ideal for the role, but casualties promoted people fast in combat. Lilih had once heard an officer say ominously before an assault 'If you survive the first day, I'll promote you' to his troopers. Well…it was true here on Shanxi against these humans.

Shanxi…humans…

Not for the first time, Lilih wished for Batarians. Nice, cowardly Batarians…

"Incoming!" Someone screamed and an APC exploded in fire, sending bodies tumbling out, some running, some falling, some unwounded…some burning and screaming. Soldiers rushed to their aid, but Lilih stayed where he was against the back of the Tank. The advance wasn't stopping, they needed to get across the bridge as fast as they could. If only they could cross the bridge, they could get in close, and maybe get an edge against the humans. But Lilih wasn't going to bargain on that. He knew that things were going to be just as bloody digging the humans out of rubble on this side of the river as they were on the other side of the river.

"SHIT! The _Bostra_'s firing again!" Nazac screamed over the sound of the tank's main gun sending another round down range into a human building. Lilih glanced up for a moment and saw it, the fiery trace of a mass accelerator round burning through the atmosphere faster than any meteor…in fact…Lilih could see the slower tracts of meteorites dropping down towards the city.

"That's the _Bostra_ alright! And somebody decided to start dropping rocks on the humans too!" Lilih screamed back over the sound of weapons fire. A few of the squad looked up, one of the younger soldiers raising his head for a moment too long though…a human put a heavy round into his head and reduced it to a spray of blood, bone and brain. A few of the squad looked at it in horror, but the rest hugged closer to the rear of the tank, no longer complaining about the exhaust blowing in their faces. Lilih shrugged at the body, one more dead soldier, no big deal. He cared just about as much as the orbital drops on the humans. Kill the bastards, kill them all, fuck the Citadel Council, these humans needed to die.

Lilih spared a quick glance around the edge of the Tank and saw they were almost to the other side of the bridge. Weapons fire lashed the edge of the tank sending sparks and fragments flying as he ducked his head back. Behind them, tanks and APC's burned as others pushed forward. Even the Gunships kept flying forward, most of the pilots knowing that flying into the teeth of the human line was slightly less deadly than stepping out an airlock naked. Most dropped their ordinance and flew back, not lingering as they had before to provide pinpoint fire and rockets where squads needed it. No, now they were trying to play fighter jock, hit hard and move fast. Human weapons had exacted a gruesome toll on their number as well. Lilih winced as the Tank next to the one they were covering behind was hit by a human anti-tank round and exploded. He knew that the crew was dead, and his elbow stopped one of the replacements from moving to help.

"They're dead! Keep in cover or you'll be too Saren!" He snarled at the trooper who'd moved to help. He got a quick nod and felt the tank rock as it's main gun fired off a shell to try and avenge the murder of it's brother. Lilih didn't know if it was successful, but he didn't much care, the tanks couldn't do that much, it would be up to his squad. He could feel the bridge rumbling as the _Bostra_'s rounds hit the surface. The Dreadnought was firing fast now, pumping out projectiles almost as fast as the main gun could fire. Whoever had made that call was alright in his book.

Kill all those fucking humans.

* * *

Williams watched the display as the Turian battleship let lose round after round into the city, annihilating his air defense positions with overwhelming force. It was a gratuitous amount of force…and it was beginning to cause civilian casualties. Serious civilian casualties. Fifteen kilotons of force striking a single anti-air emplacement was enough to annihilate it, and cause damage to bunkers nearby. There were reports coming in from shelters about civilian casualties, but Williams couldn't do anything about that. The Turian commander was using force indiscriminately, there was no concern for the lives of the civilians he was slaughtering. General Williams knew that he couldn't surrender to this Admiral, even if he wanted to. There was no telling what he'd do with nothing standing between him and the millions that Williams was defending. He sighed as his air defenses were hammered into submission and the Turian made meteors dropped on the city, knocking over structures and decimating the urban environment.

Williams watched, and he waited. His forces would hold them at the bridges, his reserves, his militia, they knew they had to hold their lines. They hadn't given an inch without payment in blood, and they were all ready for the battle.

Because they knew that there was only a day left.

* * *

Admiral Varkus was happy. Despite the fierce resistance that his forces had encountered, he knew that the fire and bombardment that he'd rained down on their capital had done much to disturb the human defenders. He knew that it was merely a matter of time. The humans were trapped, and faced with overwhelming numbers and a massive assault, along with the possibility of having the _Bostra_ resume it's fire, they would be certain to surrender. If they did not, he would have a three megaton yield Nuclear weapon dropped onto the human capital and annihilate these pests once and for all. Varkus had made sure that he'd given the order for the weapon to be prepared and loaded into the drop bay before he had taken his leave. He'd felt strangely giddy, the joy at the turn of the battle enough to brighten his spirits which had been decidedly dark for the past two weeks. As the Admiral lay down to sleep, he felt content, content in knowing his victory would soon be assured.

* * *

**2157 Mid October, Hyperspace aboard the Super-Carrier SSV **_**Leonidas**_

Admiral Zhaz-mi-at was Vegan, and he was proud of that fact. He was incredibly proud of the fact that he was the first Vegan to rise to the command of Admiral's rank, and the first commander of the truly complete First Fleet…the single most powerful fleet in the Systems Alliance. In almost constant construction since 2070, the First Fleet had been envisioned as a massive striking force, the arm of decision in any engagement that the Systems Alliance decided. It was the only Fleet that was kept continuously 'in being' and not parceled out in small detachments or task forces for scouting and security. There were Six fleets to be exact, the First 'in being' and guarding Arcturus, gateway to the core worlds. The Second, based on Luna at Earth, providing security to Terra. The Third, based at Depot, a parsec from Mwan Gwi and providing security for the Vegan Homeworld. Fourth Fleet was headquartered on Lair, the Vargr homeworld, and weighted heavily for exploration due to it's reputation as being the 'frontier post' for exploration and local colonization. The Fifth was stationed at Kuzu, the Aslan homeworld and also had a heavy emphasis on exploration thanks to the expansionistic tendencies of the Aslan themselves. The Sixth fleet was an administrative designation for all 'internal security' vessels and patrols, and was headquartered at Arcuturs with High Command. None of the other fleets were as large as the First Fleet though. Over a hundred and fifty vessels strong, it lived up to it's reputation as the Fist of Terra though sheer size alone. Admiral Zhaz-mi-at was pleased to have such a fighting force at his tendrils, though he wasn't pleased for the mission he'd been dispatched on, nor was he pleased at how he'd had to take the trip.

Orders of course. For some reason, orders had been to avoid any Mass Relay transit, causing a journey of a few days to turn into three weeks of hyper jumps and refueling to sneak up on Shanxi the slow way. Although, 'sneak' was not something that you could consider the largest fleet in the Systems Alliance to be capable of. But they had made the long jumps, every crewmember of the fleet more than aware that every day was one day that the defenders at Shanxi had to hold out. It wasn't often that Navy crews or pilots felt solace for their groundside cousins, but knowing that soldiers were dying because you were crawling to their rescue wasn't something that any one could stomach easily. Though, the Navy knew that the Marines and army troopers that they were escorting were even more keyed up than they were. Most of them could only _wait_ and think about what they were going to be facing.

That and they got the painful updates from Shanxi every time the fleet dropped from hyperspace. It wasn't something that they had been overjoyed to learn about. Militia casualties, enemy assaults, total destruction, bloody house to house fighting. It was a nightmare, and the only silver lining that the reinforcements had was that the Turians weren't going to be expecting Thirty Corps to come in to the rescue. Not exactly the momentous bright side, since they knew they were going to have a fight on their hands that was as hard as the one facing the Militia and reserves.

But Admiral Zhaz-mi-at was not concerned with the ground combat, it wasn't his job to be concerned with ground combat. It was his job to sweep the Turians from the space surrounding Shanxi so that the ground forces could get to the ground…and annihilate the enemy fleet before him. He knew that he had more than enough combat power arrayed before him to deal with the Turians. Though simply brutally assaulting the Turian fleet would cost him needless casualties. The Vegan knew how to utilize force and finesse…and he might even give the Turians a chance to surrender. One chance…maybe…

Admiral Zhaz stood on the command bridge of the Super Carrier _Leonidas_ and nodded his eye hood slightly to himself. It would be generous of him. The Turians hadn't given the Frigate and Corvettes they'd destroyed the same courtesy. He looked around the command bridge, it was fully staffed in preparation of the drop to real space. He'd had the entire fleet readied for combat in the point jump thirty light minutes out of Shanxi. It was standard doctrine to orient the fleet and make the final checks close to the system and then micro-jump in. Most fleet commanders didn't have the resources to put a scout out in every direction. Zhaz looked around and saw the determined expressions on his command bridge crew. From the humans, to his fellow Vegans, and the few Canine Vargr that looked like bipedal wolves…and the fearsome Aslan that looked like bipedal lions, they all showed the same expressions of determination that was evident on his features. Admiral Zhaz raised his right tendrils to his eye hood in an expression learned subconsciously from humans, an expression of contemplation.

He debated for a moment, and decided that he'd accept the surrenders of the Turians, but he wouldn't seek them. It was only fair, more fair than what they had given Commander Chang and his detachment.

"Initiate hyper jump to Shanxi." The Admiral said and he felt the lurch as the ship dove into the nether space that was hyperspace for the short hop into the system. It was as routine as an exercise, but for the first time, the First Fleet of the Systems Alliance was jumping into combat against another galactic power. Admiral Zhaz held his eyehood high with pride. He was in command of it, and with that simple act, he knew that his people were true partners of the Humans and Vargr and Aslan in the Systems Alliance. They were ready, and they knew that their arrival wasn't a moment too soon. Information being provided by Shanxi's System Defense Boats was giving Zhaz everything he needed. He'd set upon the dispersed Turian fleet from behind before they ever knew what hit them.

As the Admiral stood and waited, he could feel the tension ratcheting up among his bridge crew. More and more shifts and glances from crewmembers as they waited, eyes glued to the count down clocks measuring the time to arrival in system in seconds. Zhaz could sympathize. It was the first time he'd lead the fleet in battle, and despite his pride, despite his confidence, he was nervous…but he wasn't going to show it, there were certain things that must be maintained, and the Admiral in command of the Alliance's most powerful battle fleet couldn't be nervous, no matter what.

"Reverting to real space in five…" Came the growling voice of the Vargr Operations officer. His snout was pointed at the countdown clock and was announcing what everyone in the command bridge knew already. But it was procedure, no matter how redundant it was at the moment. Zhaz leaned against the circular holo display, looking at the image of the Shanxi system hanging in the air. He saw the Turian fleet spread out, the red symbols for the Turian fleet spread out to interdict the surface of Shanxi, the bulk of the fleet centered over the Capital, but plenty of ships were spread out in orbit. Zhaz looked at the 'friendly' craft huddled in the gas envelop of the system's gas giant. They'd hid well and recorded a great deal of information that they relayed back to High Command, none of it encouraging. The Turian willingness to use Mass Accelerators against civilian targets was horrifying to soldiers who regarded minimizing civilian deaths as a central tenet of their planning. Zhaz had been more than a little nauseated by it himself, he'd never thought a being would be willing to drop asteroids on a planet.

The Admiral's thoughts ended as the SSV _Leonidas _dropped from hyperspace along with the rest of the fleet. They arrived in real space between Shanxi and the System's asteroid belt that the system defense boats had moved to prior to the engagement. As the fleet appeared, the Corvettes and Frigates of the system defenders raced out of their hiding spaces to form a rear-guard to the fleet. It was a perfect formation that had been practiced and drilled numerous times. Corvettes and Frigates formed up in a defensive half-sphere in front of the heart of the formation, weapons primed to engage fighters that might be launched. Within this screening force, the main bulk of the battle line formed up perfectly. At it's center were the twin Super Carriers _Leonidas _and _Sun-Tzu. _Both of them were massive 750,000 dton carriers built along the lines of two and a half kilometer long cylinders with arrowhead prows. Each was packed with fighters and bombers. Around them, the smaller shapes of the six Fleet Carriers formed up. In a normal formation, the kilometer long craft would be the centerpiece of a task force, but they were supporting the entire battle line in this engagement. Each of the ships was a 100,000 ton craft whose design had remained the same since it's class christening in the 2070's. Around this core of carriers were the battleships and battle cruisers. These were heavy hitters.

The battleships weighed in at 250,000 dtons each, and were a kilometer and a half long. They were sleek ships, designed with flowing lines to ensure that the secondary batteries and defense emplacements on them had clear lines of fire. They were arrowhead ship like the vast majority of Systems Alliance designs as well, capable of fuel skimming from gas giants…but these craft had a long spinal 'hump' on them that ran from prow to stern. That was their main armament. A spinal mount Meson gun, the heaviest weapon in the systems Alliance arsenal, it wasn't designed around mass accelerator technology, instead it was an application of High Energy Physics that the Vegan Polity's scientists had developed. Utilizing particle accelerators and a supercollider, along with Element Zero reactions, a stream of neutral and short lived particles called Mesons were created and directed to a specific target. Mesons were completely immune to physical matter when active, and by altering the field, it was capable of causing the particles to decay inside a target, creating high intensity radiation and reactions with the matter. It was a complicated weapon, and slow firing, but there was next to nothing you could do to stop it without a Meson screen. Armor was worthless.

Along with the massive firepower provided by the Battleships, the 150,000 dton Battle-cruisers brought their own degree of firepower to the engagement. They were built around a pair of fusion cannons that ran down the center-line of the kilometer long vessel. Working on the same concept as the man portable fusion guns that the Marine Corps utilized, Fusion guns fired the equivalent of a shard of a star, taking plasma and compressing it using mass effect fields to the point where the plasma fused before being fired down a mass accelerator cannon. Surrounding the Battle-cruisers and Battleships were the regular Cruisers Much smaller than the Battleships and Battle-Cruisers they didn't boast spinal mount weapons and weighed in at 50,000 dtons, but were heavier armed than Frigates. The Cruisers formed up in a defense sphere as well, prepared to maneuver on targets of opportunity that the Admiral identified. It was a formidable striking force, and Zhaz watched it form in perfect order on the tactical holo, arrayed towards Shanxi like the Fist of Terra, wrath incarnate.

"Admiral, all forces report ready." The Operations Officer reported. Zhaz nodded and watched the symbols of Fighter and Bomber Squadrons launching from the carriers. He looked at the tactical display, fighter squadrons formed up among the Frigates and Corvettes, ready to advance and engage the Turian response. Bomber wings formed up, loaded with their antimatter missiles, ready to swoop in and launch their ordinance on the enemy fleet. It was a well rehearsed dance, and Zhaz watched passively, he made note of the Army and Marine detachment and vessels in the Rapid Reaction Force sheltering behind First Fleet. It wasn't hard to understand why, First Fleet had to ensure orbital superiority before the RRF made it's move in system to land it's divisions on the planet and relieve the defenders.

The Turian fleet was beginning to react to the rapid arrival of the First Fleet, and realizing that they were outnumbered almost three to one. Admiral Zhaz wouldn't have wanted to be in the boots of the commander of their fleet, that was for sure. He let out a soft chuckle at the thought and drummed his tendrils on the edge of the display, enjoying the feeling of superiority at that moment, because without a doubt, the Systems Alliance held the edge in this engagement. He pivoted his eye hood and checked the engagement distance, the enemy was well out of range at the moment, and they were scrambling to form up a line of battle. Some of the Turian craft were scrambling fighters, but it was very haphazard. He turned back and tapped a few locations on the hologram, forming up sparse plans of the engagement.

He ordered his bomber squadrons to circle around on the right flank, moving as far out of the Turian line of fire as possible, while his fighter wings accelerated hard against the Turian formation. As Zhaz watched, the symbols for his fighter squadrons accelerated through space to meet the paltry numbers that the enemy was sending forward. He nodded his eye hood slightly, and knew the battle was joined.

* * *

"We have unknown vessels approaching…"

"…they just appeared along axis five nine six mark two…"

"Enemy forces are launching what seem to be fighters."

"Is there any sensor data on these craft? Energy emissions?"

"I had what looked like fighters moving at a wide arch on our left flank, but I lost them, they just turned invisible."

"Our frigate screen is moving to form up from their positions, and we have two cruiser commanders requesting orders."

"Ground combat sorties are recalled, yes, RECALLED. Well, tell our ground troops to make due with gunships, we've got an enemy fleet here!"

"No, it looks like two dreadnought size craft are in the fleet, yes, two. No, we have no idea of their weapons systems. No, no reports on the capabilities of the smaller craft."

"It looks like the things became invisible. Yes, I said invisible."

The command bridge of the _Bostra_ was one of pure chaos. The on duty bridge crew was dashing around and trying to get a handle on what had happened, while the higher ranking officers were rushing in, drawn by the battle alarms and trying to get information. Somehow, the humans had struck when the most experienced commanders were off shift and were getting some rest of their own. Which was why there were twenty different voices screaming in every different direction, overseen by the _Bostra_'s third officer. He was trying to assert some order, but the panic in the command crew was overwhelming. Which was understandable, when an enemy fleet three times your size appeared on your rear flank, you tended to get nervous. Captain Jarv strode into the command bridge and looked around at the chaos. He stood there silently for a moment, taking in the panic with shock of his own before speaking so loudly he was practically screaming.

"Calm down! Are you not Turians?" He called over the din of the command bridge. The officers sitting in their command stations and surrounding the map table looked up at him. The officer in charge hung his head ashamed and stepped away from the map showing local space and gestured to it. Jarv walked up and looked at the officer in silence, his gaze accusing. The young officer had panicked, and he had lost control of the bridge, failed to maintain discipline. The Captain said noting, but turned away from him, disgusted, instead focusing on the map table. Without a doubt the situation was bad, but not hopeless. His forces held a serious advantage, if the attackers wanted to engage at long range with mass accelerators, they would risk straining their own planet. It was a small bright spot.

"Have all fighters mass at our position, and recall the frigates doing over watch of the planet's surface. I want them to make maximum possible speed to our location. Have the fleet move into combat formation, keep the planet behind us." Jarv's voice was as cold as ice and steady as granite. It was just the kind of thing that a Turian needed to hear to be reminded of what was expected of him. The bridge crew began relaying it's orders, still nervous, still worried, but not panicked as they had been. Jarv leaned on the map table and looked at the dispositions, the humans weren't giving his forces breathing room. As he watched, their fleet advanced, and the leading fighter wings engaged his forces. Jarv looked up and saw Admiral Varkus entering the command bridge, missing the panic in his bridge crew, but hearing Jarv's orders being sent out. The older Admiral nodded in approval.

"Good commands Captain, let us see just what we're facing…" The Admiral said, stepping up to the map table as Jarv took a step back, surrendering the command surface to his superior. He looked down at it though, his attention fixed on the forces. The fleet had one dreadnought and fifteen cruisers, against a human force of…what seemed to be two immense dreadnoughts, and what seemed to be size wise, 61 vessels that were large enough for the Citadel Council to class as a dreadnought. But they had a multitude of smaller craft as well, all of them the same kind that had been engaged at the Mass Relay. And they apparently had ample fighter coverage, which they were launching wave after wave of lighter craft from their dreadnoughts. Jarv didn't like the correlation of forces one bit.

"Alright, I want our forces to mass in a standard battle line, our cruisers will mass fire with the _Bostra_ and begin rapid bombardment of their screening force so that we can begin to target their capital ships. I want our fighters to stay close to our formation, point defenses should be ample to deal with the fighter threat, no matter how numerous." Admiral Varkus ordered, watching the tactical display.

"Admiral, our ground forces are experiencing heavy resistance in their advance, removing all fighter support would be dangerous at this point in the battle." The Groundside liaison officer said from his position.

"It's a necessary sacrifice, if we don't deal with this human fleet, then our ground forces are on their own." Varkus responded and then looked back at the map table, watching the fleets maneuver in the void. His own forces massing as the massed human fleet moved towards them…their organization perfect. Varkus watched the fighters bearing down on his own formations, wishing for more…the human fleet seemed to have a limitless supply of them. He smiled as he felt the _Borsta_ vibrate, sending the first round downrange along with a ripple of fire from the cruisers. He watched the rounds tearing through space to begin blasting a hole in the formation, each one moving at a hundredth the speed of light, and in space, striking with 38 kilotons of force. Varkus watched content as the human support craft were hit by the massed volley and torn to shreds. He ignored the fighters assaulting his ships. They were pests for his fighters and point defenses to deal with.

* * *

Lieutenant Silverton was as immersed in the space battle as he could be. His F-300 Banshee was wheeling about, maneuvering for all it was worth so that the Turian point defenses couldn't get a bead on him and swat him with fire. The angular fighter was moving about erratically, dodging and wheeling as the veteran pilot twisted his craft around. The melee wasn't something that could be controlled, and once contact was made, the leading echelon of fighters had torn into their Turian opposite numbers with gusto. Unfortunately for the Turians, they'd been running ground attack sorties for two weeks, and their craft had been damaged, their pilots tired, their mindset not that of proper pilots. Not to mention that the Turian Design philosophy had seemed to think that fighter mounted missiles weren't a major option for them. But the gauss weapons on their craft were ample enough in a dogfight…

Those that _made it_ into range for a dogfight. The vanguard of the fighter craft emptied their own missile magazines into the Turians reducing much of the Turian interceptor screen to scrap. The rest of their number were struggling to survive in the face of an overwhelming number of Alliance craft. Not that Silverton had time to actually count the numbers of his opposition. His duty was to cut down on the Turian fighter coverage, and they had accomplished that task spectacularly. Though right now the fighters were mainly drawing point defense fire from the Turians, it was a waste of expensive craft and trained pilots to use them to harass the enemy fleet like this.

Silverton wheeled his fighter around sharply, firing his Ion burst cannons against the Turian Frigate's prow, aiming to perforate the cockpit of the craft. He watched with satisfaction as the armor plating split apart and tore from the impacts. There was no venting, and the Frigate continued to maneuver. Silverton snarled and hugged close to the upper hull of the enemy vessel, close enough that had his craft possessed a canopy, he could have reached out of it and brushed the hull with his finger tips. He was within the defilade of the point defenses, and rocketed out past the exhaust ports unmolested. The pilot blazed away, once more searching for Turian fighters to engage, he was already an Ace from this engagement, but like any fighter pilot, he wanted more.

* * *

"Admiral, the Turian fighter screen has been eliminated completely, and our interceptors are drawing extensive point defense fire." Admiral Zhaz heard from his fighter commander, looking at the tactical display. He didn't like using his fighter craft as a sacrificial screen, but it was a necessary action. The Admiral knew that to give his bombers a chance, he needed to get the Turian point defenses to overheat and degrade their ability to shoot down his warheads. Zhaz knew that each fleet had it's own advantages. From the combat data, the Turian commander had two advantages that if he leaned on expertly enough, could deliver him victory. There was enough theoretical and sensor data on the enemy to know that their ships were armed with Mass accelerator weapons, they gave the Turians an advantage over the energy weapons based Alliance fleet. Meson weapons, Fusion guns, even Phasor batteries had a limited range before their directed energy dissipated in space…although the effects could continue on for hundreds of thousands of Kilometers, their 'effective kill' distance was nothing compared to the Turian Mass Accelerators which could continue moving at the same velocity on the same trajectory until they hit something, and when they hit…they hit with the same amount of force as when they left the muzzle of their weapon track.

Alliance craft were extremely dangerous in close, phaser batteries, missiles, and plasma torpedoes were deadly at close range when coupled with the speed and maneuverability of human craft. At intermediate range, the heavy Meson and Fusion weapons of the Battleships and Battle-Cruisers could annihilate any target…but beyond that, the fleet's primary striking force were the squadrons of fighters and bombers armed with heavy ordinance.

On the inverse, the Turian fleet was extremely dangerous at range. Their Mass Accelerators, when fired in volley could take apart an Alliance Cruiser, or cripple a Battleship. That deadly capability stretched to the intermediate ranges where fighters fought with fighters. But close in, the Turian Fleet was vulnerable. It's heaviest weapons were useless against maneuverable Alliance vessels, and their shields weren't enough to resist directed Alliance fire. But if they could maintain distance with the attackers, they had the opportunity to cause extreme amounts of damage…and if they could keep the Alliance fighters and bombers from being able to engage them. Sadly for the Turians, they were limited, their fighter coverage had been overwhelmed, and they were forced to remain in close orbit near their ground troops. It removed the options that the Turian commander had, but Admiral Zhaz was more than willing to accept his opponent being hobbled in his operational options. His force was accelerating, and it wouldn't be long before his Meson weapons and Fusion Cannons could enter the melee and give back what the Turians were dishing out. For now, he accepted the losses of Frigates and Corvettes as the cost of combat.

But his bomber crews would get the privilege of striking at the Turians first.

* * *

Commander Mrak was in his bomber, and for all intents and purposes, his squadron of FB-30 Ibzanda bombers slowly moved through space, coasting under minimal energy emissions, fully cloaked and shielded. The squadron was one of several from the _Leonidas_, tasked with engaging any Turian Frigate that they could find. Moving under cloak and at distance, the squadron was attempting to avoid the wild melee that First Fleet's interceptors had gone through. Mrak ran his tendrils over the internal controls of the bomber while his 'back seat' searched for targets.

"Alright, I have a force of six Turian Frigates moving to combine with their fleet. They're moving at maximum thrust. Good enough target?" His backseat asked with a Vargr growl to his words. Mrak nodded his eyehood reflexively.

"Aye…let's spool up the squadron, I think we're going to collect our first scalps." He said, deftly touching the control stick with his tendrils to bring the craft towards the unsuspecting Turian vessels. The rapid neutrino burst communicators relayed the targeting information among the other members of the squadron, and without hesitation, each Turian ship received a total of four missiles in total, two fired from each of the bombers. Mrak made a few course corrections while Tren made the necessary adjustments to the missiles. In Mrak's mind, he made the silent countdown after all the fighters chirped ready. A Vegan expression of delight formed around his eyehood as his center tendril caressed the firing stud of the control stick. He felt the pair of dull thuds as the missile assembly dropped free from his craft and he pulled back hard on the control stick, moving his cloaked bomber hard away from the possible two blips that appeared on the Turian radar. He didn't want any kind of counter fire to find his squadron, even if the missiles would be damned hard to find.

Although…'missile' wasn't an entirely true identifier for what had been ejected from the Ibzanda's weapons bay. Optimized for space combat, it was the smallest warhead that was non antimatter…and the smallest ship killer that the Alliance possessed, but it didn't explode against an enemy vessel. Instead, the Mk. 19 Chazic anti-ship weapon was a hybrid. In fact, the weapon itself never touched it's target physically. A Chazic was a big weapon, big enough to incorporate three distinct segments. The first segment that activated was the driver portion, a one shot rail gun segment that energized and fired core of the weapon. It was self aiming, taking the input from the Ibzanda's sensor suite. In ten seconds, the core of the projectile had crossed the fifteen kilometers separating the launch point to the 'energize' point. The second portion of the weapon system was a one kiloton nuclear weapon. Firing at the precise moment, the nuclear explosion formed it's characteristic double flash as the detonation. But the detonation was two thousand meters away from the Turian Frigate whose Captain had noted the launch of something towards his craft from an empty sector of space. The explosion of a kiloton nuclear weapon wasn't the end of the weapon's life. The final portion of the weapon was a high energy X-ray laser utilizing the raw energy of a nuclear detonation to emit a directed pulse of energy before the reaction that powered it destroyed it.

The X-ray laser pulse was co-ordinated with the other three weapons that had been launched against the Turian Frigate. X-Ray lasers were several orders of magnitude higher in power than free electron lasers used for point defense, but they weren't death lasers. They had an extremely short period of effectiveness, and didn't 'burn though' armor. The X-ray energy that was directed by the weapons focusing array was translated to an explosion and raw heat in the nanoseconds the beam was coherent. Combining the fire of the other warheads, it caused enough force to equal a five kiloton nuke going off against the skin of the Turian Frigate. The force was enough that the hull plating at the center of the ship was ripped apart, smashing down the entire top deck and rending armor. Internal systems were crushed and two whole decks were blasted open to vacuum before their crews knew what was happening. The Turian Frigate was reduced to scrap in seconds, a lifeless husk of it's former glory, drifting deeper into Shanxi's gravity well, about to turn into another piece of debris raining down on the planet.

"Positive kill." Tren said, almost deadpan when set against the staccato nuclear fireballs and the destruction of six hostile vessels. But Mrak accepted it, and knew that his Squadron had claimed their first kills. Although, each Ibanda bomber only had six Chazic weapons, they'd be able to eradicate plenty of Turian targets. Perhaps four was a bit much to utilize. Mrak nodded his eye hood and checked the local sensor data, searching for more targets before checking for updates from Command…but until he was told otherwise, his squadron would hunt Frigates.

* * *

Admiral Varkus looked at the tactical display with mounting dread. He was losing frigates fast to a series of nuclear explosions…or so it seemed. He knew that the humans made ample use of Anti-matter weapons and his point defenses could swat those from space rather handily when they launched missiles. But these weapons were something different entirely…a directed energy weapon of incredible power, launched from a fighter craft that were almost invisible. They weren't entirely immune to his sensors, but his technicians had to look hard for the energy leaks in the craft…and they had to know where to look, which didn't bode well for finding them in the wild melee of battle. Varkus growled angrily, along with that sad fact, he also had to face the fact that even though his Cruisers and the _Bostra_ had accounted for almost fifty of the lighter human craft, their Dreadnoughts were unharmed, and they were getting closer. His Mass Accelerators were firing constantly, discharging a round every two seconds, each one lancing through the distance between the fleets and ripping apart a Human craft. It wasn't enough though, their ships were agile enough to attempt to avoid incoming rounds, but they weren't dodging all.

"Admiral, we've lost another ten Frigates to the human bombers. Our Frigate forces are getting slaughtered sir." The Fleet ops officer reported stoically. Varkus let out a hiss and slammed his fist on the edge of the map table. These damn creatures were cunning, and he was against a wall, his fleet couldn't fire much longer, the humans would be able to maneuver enough to dodge his fire…and he had no fighters, and his point defenses couldn't shoot down whatever these human small craft were firing…

"Admiral, the enemy fleet is altering it's formation." Captain Jarv said, looking at the view screens curiously. Varkus looked up and saw the lighter craft screening the human Dreadnoughts were shifting their positions and maneuvering to give the heavy craft a clear opening. Varkus felt his guts lurch…the had decided to open fire…but for some reason, the largest of the craft and sixmore of their number hung back…only the craft with the humped backs were maneuvering forward…Admiral Varkus looked at them closely…they were as large as the _Bostra_, and he had no doubt that these would be dreadful opponents.

"I want fire focused on those ships, now." Varuks ordered, deadly quiet in the din of the command bridge. Captain Jarv raised his hand to gesture at the _Bostra_'s weapons control officer, but before he could say anything, one of the comm's officers spoke loudly.

"Admiral, five of our Cruisers just went silent and are drifting. Sensors detect internal explosions aboard them and a massive amount of radiation flooding he decks. There are no life signs from them." The communications officer said, horrified at the thought. Varkus looked at the screen. The humans hadn't fired, had they? Did they posess a weapon that could destroy a ship from inside? Past Kinetic barriers and armor plating? An invisible death ray, like some horrible fantasy story? Was it possible? Varkus felt his guts lurch again and staggered slightly, feeling very weak. Captain Jarv looked over, but didn't move to his commander's side, just as shocked at the possibility as his Admiral was. He swallowed hard and looked back, ordering the remaining Cruisers to open fire with the _Bostra_ on the human dreadnoughts. As he did, ten of the slightly smaller human dreadnoughts fired, glowing projectiles cutting through space as fast as a mass accelerator round, impacting ten separate Cruisers and making their Kinetic barriers flare for a few moments. Jarv looked at the tactical readouts and saw that each of the Cruiser's shielding was gone. But none of them exploded from the inside, none of them went silent as they maneuvered wildly to avoid a second round…

…which came from the weapons batteries of the human dreadnoughts in a single volley. Each of the ten Cruisers was struck again and annihilated by the blast. The bridge went dead silent…and it was broken by the soft sounds of comms traffic filling the air.

"Jarv…how many?" Admiral Varkus asked quietly of his second in command, the Admiral's hand was on his face, horrified at what he knew had happened, but unwilling to open his eyes to the reality of it all…his fleet was…

"Admiral…out of our original force of fifty craft…the _Borsta, _Nineteen Cruisers, and thirty Frigates…we've lost Fifteen Cruisers, Twenty Eight Frigates, all our fighters and interceptors. The Humans hold full control of local space Admiral. We have nothing left." Captain Jarv said silently, horrified at the words coming from his mouth. The fleet engagment had been fourty minutes. In the past _five_ they'd lost fifteen Cruisers. In the past thirty, they'd lost twenty eight Frigates. In the first fifteen, they'd lost all their fighters. If had been brutal slaughter, and deep down, Jarv could not stomach the revelation of what was happening. They were done…the entire fleet was gone.

"Jarv…you've been a good XO. You deserved better than this." Admiral Varkus said softly so that only his second in command could hear.

"I…thank you…for that, Admiral." Jarv said, shocked.

"Jarv…prime the warhead, and fire it at Shanxi. If we will not win this battle, the humans won't retain this world. Upload the battle record to our remaining frigates and order them to flee to Palaven. The Hirearchy and the Council need to be warned about these humans. I fear…we have awakened a sleeping giant Jarv…and the war we've started…it will not end well for us." Admiral Varkus said softly, his voice softening with every word. The Admiral placed his hand on the map table as the humans advanced…methodical…relentless…the Admiral could not blame them for that…they were angry.

Captain Jarv stood silent, looking at his Admiral for long seconds, oblivious to the advancing human fleet…he had heard his orders, and was horrified at what his Admiral had commanded he do. It was an order though…it was an _order_ and he was a _Turian_. He knew what he must do, what he _had_ to do, what his very being ordered him to do. He _had_ to obey, he didn't have a choice, from the first moments of his life, Jarv knew just what he had to do when he received an order, good or bad, right or wrong, he had a _duty_ to obey it. It didn't matter what he thought of it. It didn't matter what he believed, his superior had told him point blank what needed to be done, and he had to.

"Weapons…launch the Nuclear warhead at the human city." Jarv said, his voice as brittle as crystal as he did so. His conscience was warring with his military conditioning, his very society was forcing him to obey an order. It didn't matter what he or anyone else on the _Bostra_ thought…he had to follow his orders. The Weapons officer balked at the order as much as his Captain had, and went through the same feeling of helplessness as he had the same conditioning…but for a Turian Captain in command of a Dreadnought, he had more authority than a young officer in command of the ships weapons, and the battle of conscience was much less. It was even less to the gun crew that obeyed the command he relayed. They merely hit the requisite keys on their command consoles and the three Megaton warhead, fused to go off at one kilometer above ground level dropped free from the Turian dreadnought and fired a thruster to accelerate it towards it's target…a slow journey dictated by the calculus of astrophysics which no species could ignore, and only temporarily defy.

Captain Jarv relayed the rest of his orders as well. The twin Turian Frigates, identified only by numbers, balked at the orders they were given to flee a battle, but understood the necessity of what they had to do. As their computers recived the complete data download of the Battle of Shanxi, both in space and on the ground, they calculated the jump to the now functioning Shanxi Theta Mass Relay, and jumped to FTL, leaping from space…and unaware of the twin bursts of Nuclear Fire that a Chazic Anti-ship weapon released…intending to vest death upon one of the Frigates before it jumped to freedom. As Jarv looked at the space the Frigates had filled, he sighed in soft relief, then turned to his Admiral. Varkus leaned heavily on the edge of the map table…his eyes locked on the human fleet, advancing…relentlessly, but not firing. The Turian force had ceased firing as well, the six remaining vessels of the Turian fleet were helpless before the advancing human armada.

"Admiral…I've carried out your orders." Jarv said, stepping up to the map table. Admiral Varkus looked up at his second in command and Jarv was shocked at the look of helplessness on his commander's face. This was Admiral Varkus…a distinguished commander, a Turian of renown, respected as a stalwart military strategist and leader. A Turian not to be underestimated or sold short.

Not anymore.

The male that stood next to Captain Jarv was shattered. He had fought his battle and lost. Tens of thousands of soldiers and sailors under his command were dead. His fleet had been decimated, the battle had been lost…and he had been bested, in the ground and in space by these humans. The male once so confident in victory, so assured of his superiority was shattered to his core, as surely as if a knife had been stabbed into his heart, he was dead…and he knew it. Once the Hirearchy saw the record of the battle…once the Citadel Council knew of what had transpired here…Admiral Varkus would be a name reviled as much as that of any Krogan Warlord or Quarian or Rachni. His future was destroyed, his pride ruined, and his command, annihilated.

"Admiral? Your orders?" Captain Jarv said softly, seeing the dead soul in Varkus's eyes…knowing that might be the last time any Turian put 'Admiral' before his name with anything approaching respect.

"Surrender, Jarv." Admiral Varkus said quietly, and turned from the map table, walking silently away without a backwards glance to the maps, or the command crew…or to his horrified Executive officer.

* * *

On the ground, the Turian forces received a flash burst from the _Bostra_. Employment of Nuclear weapons in a combat theater was something that had been rehearsed and every Turian soldier trained in. None of them had ever expected for such a thing to happen, especially now…but the commanders of the ground forces knew about the Human fleet's arrival…and they assumed that the humans had launched a weapon from orbit. But the commanders hadn't expected their orders were to withdrawal at all possible speed from the human city and cross back over the river. Such orders beyond 'bunker in place' meant that the _Bostra_ knew just where the warhead was going to land…and that meant they'd launched it. Which made things very dangerous indeed. On all fronts, Turian troops withdrew as fast as they could, practically running from the zone that had been designated the 'target area'. Turians never fled from battle, but they were withdrawing according to their orders as rapidly as possible. It was fast enough that the human Militia and Reserve forces, who had never seen a Turian unit fall back in the past two weeks of fighting were too shocked to advance behind them.

Most of the units hunkered down and waited, reinforcing their positions, making hasty barricades and re-building fighting positions, even re-distributing ammunition in preparation for what they thought would be a massive assault. A few even expected that the Turians were going to start bombarding their positions with their battleship again, and started searching for deep holes to hide in. But that attack never came, and the defenders of Shanxi merely waited in the silence that none of them had heard in over two weeks. Even in his command bunker, General Williams watched the Turian withdrawal curiously. He had expected them to hang onto whatever they could, but with the Fleet fighting a devastating battle against the Turian blockade, he assumed that they were preparing themselves for the counterattack from the Systems Alliance reinforcements in orbit. His command holo didn't show the small orbital tract of the three megaton warhead being dropped on his city.

Thankfully, it was noticed by one combat unit on Shanxi that hadn't 'fired' a shot in the entire battle.

Captain Parz-iz-akat was technically a member of Shanxi's orbital defense force, made up of the worlds System Defense Boats and the limited fighter squadrons on Shanxi. As a Vegan, he preferred Naval warfare to ground operations due to the fact that Humans, Vargr and Aslan were much more suited to it, while Vegans were more deft at the 'push button' nature of Naval warfare than their fellow species in the Alliance. It didn't hurt that a Vegan might be bigger than Humans, Vargr and Aslan…but they were a bit more fragile than the other three. So Praz had joined the orbital defense force, the equivalent of the Reserve defense forces or Militia, but slightly more active than the others. Unfortunately for Praz, his technical specialty was in a rather esoteric technology that the Vegan scientific community had come up with before contact with Humanity. When humans had first contacted the Vegan Polity, they had been at roughly the same level of development as the human race in the 1960's or 1970's. Their technology was advancing…but it hadn't made any great leaps forward since the development of nuclear fission.

Of course, when humans harnessed the atom, they had created atomic weapons…and used them twice before realizing just what terrible devices they were…and then settled into a century worth of fear of nuclear Armageddon. The Vegan peoples had developed nuclear weapons as well, but by the time humans had contacted them, they were obsolete. Not because they'd developed a bigger, badder, more destructive weapon…but because the Vegans had developed a technology that made such weapons worthless. Only one nuclear bomb had ever been used during the Vegan wars of unification…after that one bomb had been used, a physicist came up with a revolutionary concept…if you can't stop the bomb, why not make it so that it won't go off? Out of that thought, Nuclear Damper technology was born.

Utilizing a directed energy field, the Nuclear Damper caused the nuclear materials in an atomic weapon to simply not react as the should. In fact, within the area of affect of a Nuclear Damper field, radioactive materials were as dangerous as dirt. The reactions on a n atomic level simply did not work. Nuclear ordinance was useless. It was an intriguing technology to use, and of course, Humanity's scientists had been very curious…but once it was developed, it hadn't gone very far. Of course, Nuclear Dampers were in use throughout the Systems Alliance, a standard defense measure for an important location was to have a small nuclear damper…and it was a mandatory requirement for a major city once it was past a million souls.

And Shanxi was just such a place.

So Captain Praz was assigned to the tiny crew manning the colony's Nuclear Damper array. Reading the reports of the battle and wishing they were out fighting instead of hiding in the mountains and watching a weapons defense system that they weren't even sure would be useful. But they did their duties, and thankfully for the people of the Capital…they were good at what they did.

"Captain, I'm reading an orbital track from the Turian battleship…location 341.983.341, bearing 195, calculating orbital track now for re-entry." Sergeant Brook said, looking at the holo display in front of him. Captain Praz looked over the human's shoulder, the only human in the damper crew in fact…normally, Vegans filled the more scientific/technical roles in the Alliance Military…but Brook was studying for his Doctorate in Quantum Physics at Shanxi University, so he'd been sent to the damper crew.

"Sensor profile of the object is coming in from long distance observation. Resembles a conical shape four meters long, by two meters in diameter." Corporal Grak said, his eyehood focused on his display.

"Standard form for a re-entry shroud, what kind of emissions?" Captain Praz asked, his own eyehood looking at the red diamond on the orbital display that was tracking the inbound.

"Getting interference from the re-entry. Compensating…" Sergeant Liqa replied, her tendrils flicking several holographic keys on her display panel. She shifted her eyehood nervously for a moment and then leaned closer.

"I'm receiving Neutron decay. Approximately ten kilos of fissile material."

"That's enough for a five Megaton weapon Captain." Sergeant Brook said…though everyone in the small command room knew the fact.

"City buster. Charge the damper array and begin targeting protocols. What's the track look like?" Captain Praz said, his eyehood looking at the main holo now as it zoomed in on the ballistic inbound.

"Isolating the target. It's the Capital. Estimate is about one klick above ground level. It's gonna flatten the city and do a number on the mountains. No wonder the Turian ground forces are running." Sergeant Brook supplied.

"Nice. Fleet gets here and they decide to stomp on us in a last 'fuck you'?" Sergeant Liqa said, her tendrils bringing the damper online.

"Seems like it." Corporal Grak said, his own screen switching to targeting information for the Damper array. It was a directed energy beam that was simple to use…none of the crew showed the concern over the sudden importance of what had been a boring duty. Instead, they did their jobs, and in seconds, the weapons inbound track was known, and the array was powered up.

"Neutralize it." Captain Praz said, and in seconds, what had been a Three megaton weapon intended to snuff out the lives of three million Systems Alliance citizens was simply a hunk of metal and inert materials sailing through the air that landed with a crash in the central fountain of the Shanxi landing memorial plaza. For the ground troops, they didn't know what was happening…even General Williams didn't receive warning that a thermonuclear weapon had been dropped on the capital until after it had landed…but for the four beings who'd saved the city against the last Turian threat thrown against it…they were just doing their jobs.

* * *

The final stages of the Battle of Shanxi were much more anti-climactic than those at the beginning. Captain Jarv surrendered his forces to Admiral Zhav, shocked at the realization that the Systems Alliance was a nation of several different species working together. As Alliance Marines took control of the _Bostra_ and the remaining Turian Cruisers, Admiral Varkus was placed under arrest and taken into custody but the Systems Alliance, not to be treated as a prisoner of war like his ground forces and surviving orbital crews…he was to be placed on trial for Crimes against Sentient Beings. Given the weight of evidence available, there wasn't a soul who thought that the broken Turian Admiral would survive the charges. On the surface, the Turian ground commanders expected a nuclear fireball that never came…and held in place due to lack of orders from their commanders in orbit. When the order from Captain Jarv did come, the shocked ground troops accepted it as was their duty, and withdrew to the spaceport…stacking their arms and leaving their vehicles, waiting for the 82nd Airborne and 101st Airborne to land and take control of the almost 20,000 surviving Turian ground troops.

For the Militia and Reserve forces, their end to the war was not as dramatic as capturing the last Turian stalwart, or hoisting their flag over the final smoking ruins of the enemy bastion. For the most part, the Militia and Reserve forces advanced and held the river line, strengthening their positions and not aware of the fact that their battle had ended for two hours, until General Williams sent a single message to all ground and space forces in the system.

"_You have saved the people of Shanxi. I am honored to have commanded you."_

_

* * *

_

At the end of eighteen days of combat operations, the casualties of the fighting were terrible. Of the forces arrayed on Shanxi from the Systems Alliance, out of 55,000 ground troops…34,897 gave their lives, and the rest were wounded in action to one degree or another. Of the 100,000 Turian soldiers arrayed against them, 78,034 were killed in action, and almost 10,000 were wounded. In the skies above Shanxi, almost 9,000 Turian naval personnel met their end fighting against the Systems Alliance fleet…balanced against 5,000 Human, Vegan, Vargr and Aslan dead from the First Fleet. Among the citizens of Shanxi…over 90,000 had died from the indiscriminate bombardment of the capital by Admiral Varkus. For both sides, it was the bloodies engagement either had fought in centuries. For Turians who'd fought the Krogan…it was a shock to their very cores. For the peoples of the Systems Alliance, it was a call to war. General Williams submitted the makes of over five thousand Soldiers and Militia to High Command for the Star of Terra, the highest award in the Systems Alliance.

For both sides, there was time to catch their breath…but both sides knew that it was not over…Shanxi was the first step…and neither one would step back from this war on their own.

* * *

**A/N: No worries, the story isn't over yet!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Wow, thank you all for the accolades and the approval of the Technology choices. As several of you have pointed out, I did go with Traveller technology because it's high energy physics based and I thought that the weapons would be a good counterbalance to the Mass Effect physics dependent systems of the Citadel Council…it always struck me as disturbing about how much the Citadel Council ignored high energy physics to focus on ONE specific element and it's effects…but then Element Zero is Mass Effect's 'all purpose plot filler' (To paraphrase Yhatzee), much like the Force in Star Trek, Adam in Bioshock, Naquida/Naquadria in Stargate SG-1. With a little 'nerfing' of the weapons, I'd like to think I didn't make things horrendous. **

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**2157, Late November, The Citadel**

The Citadel Council did not do all their business in open court. Some things required the oversight of a more…discrete environment, and the ability to be sheltered from the press. While most news agencies were more than willing to accept the statements of 'no comment at this time' more and more reporters were starting to ask pointed questions about events going on in the Turian Hierarchy. While the Hierarchy was being it's usual overbearing selves about the matter, it wasn't something that would draw the attention of the Asari or Salarians…but a general crackdown on press information was one thing…the reports from roving Council Spectres and Salarian STG units doing routine espionage on the Hierarchy were…noteworthy.

Reports were that the Hierarchy's 89th Flotilla -which had been under the command of Admiral Varkus and on patrol against rising Batarian pirate groups- had dropped out of communications, and for lack of a better term vanished. Information showed a general increase in the readiness and training of the new classes of Turian Conscripts, along with a general call up of the reserves. More obscure information said that families of Soldiers and personnel deployed with the 89th Flotilla had received communications that their loved ones had died in 'a battle against a grave threat to the Hierarchy and the Council'. Even something as simple as the sudden upswing of raw materials shipments to Armax Arsenal and Haliat Armory…to the reports of Turian Fleets and troops being moved out of garrisons and anchorages they'd occupied throughout Council Space for years. The signs were subtle, but there was one which had given the Asari and Salarian representatives to the Citadel Council severe misgivings…

With the Treaty of Farixen, construction of Dreadnoughts had been curtailed and limited to proportionate numbers. It was the rule of law in Citadel Space that for every one associate race dreadnought, there were three council race dreadnoughts and five Turian dreadnoughts. The balance was to provide a measure of security, halt reckless military spending, and provide the Turian Hierarchy an edge in it's role as galactic peacekeepers. According to the treaty, the ratio is set by the number of Turian Dreadnoughts, which for centuries had remained steady at thirty, giving the council races eighteen each, and the associate races six each. It was a simple balance of math, and an easy way for the galaxy to maintain peace. But in a seemingly inconsequential declaration by the Turian Councilor, he stated that the keels were being laid out for an additional twenty Dreadnoughts, and the council would consider the rations to be changed to fifty, thirty, ten. Matriarch Tevos had been surprised by such a dramatic shift in Turian policy…and combined with the other facts being reported to her and Salarian Councilor Anotus had caused the pair to have a polite and informal meeting with their third member, Councilor Valern.

Valern was the representative to the council, while the Turian Ambassador to the Citadel was Ardiat…both of them were former military men, fitting their roles as representatives as the Citadel's peacekeeping forces. But neither one had been able to speak to the Citadel Council that much. Valern himself barely making the required appearances at the triumvirate and spending most of his time speaking with the military leadership of the Hierarchy that was stationed at the Citadel to co-ordinate the galactic peacekeeping operations. Ardiat had barely spent time in his office in the Embassies, spending his time with the military leadership as well, even though his office was a pro forma position on the Citadel with his Councilor out ranking him, Ardiat had duties that he had, specifically, undertaking negotiations and discussions with other Citadel Races...but he'd been canceling those meetings regularly for almost an entire month. Fortunately enough for Councilor Anotus and Councilor Tevos, they had managed to convince Valern that they needed to speak with him on an important matter. The distracted Councilor had not agreed immediately, but the suggestion that perhaps there was something that the Hierarchy wished to discuss in private.

Valern was keen enough to realize that his month's worth of doing little more than dodging his fellow councilors was at an end, and accepted the meeting. Which was why the three Councilors sat in one of the conference rooms within the Citadel's central spire. The room was open on one side, finished with a transparent viewport stretching from floor to ceiling…but none of the eyes in the room looked out at the spectacular view of the wards that presented itself to them. Instead, all three sets of eyes were looking at the center of the wood covered conference table, silence reigning in the room. Valern was not exactly eager to volunteer information…and little more had been said than the usual formal greetings. The three were colleagues, but not exactly friends. They knew that they were the three most powerful beings in the Galaxy, leaders of the Citadel Council, and the hand picked representatives of their species to the single most powerful group to exist in modern times.

"Councilor, rather…unusual information has come to the attention of Matriarch Tevos and myself, we wish to discuss it with you so that any misunderstandings can be resolved." Councilor Anotus said diplomatically, looking at his Turian opposite sitting at the circular conference table. Valern nodded and sighed, the Hierarchy had given him instructions to be discrete about the situation, but he had been told to inform them of the situation if pressured. It would have been foolish for the Hierarchy to expect their preparations to go unnoticed by either the Salarians or by the Council Spectres. Of course, the Turian Spectres had understood the delicate situation and been considerate enough to ignore the Hierarchy's preparations…but the Salarian STG was as effective as ever.

"Yes Councilor, it would seem that the Hierarchy is preparing for full scale war." Matriarch Tevos said, looking at Valern across the table with her bright eyes. Her voice was calm and reasonable. The paragon of the diplomatic detachment the Asari Matriarchs were known for. Valern nodded and gestured over his shoulder to the aide that had come with him. Each of the Councilors had limited themselves to a single aide being present at this meeting. Matriarch Tevos had her personal secretary with her, Councilor Anotus had a member of the STG along to provide any intelligence that might be needed on the Turian situation. Councilor Valern however had a full rank Turian General along with him, and the General rose from where he sat, nodding in response to the order. General Septimus walked up behind his Councilor.

"Councilors, I am General Septimus, head of the Threats and Intentions office of the Peacekeeping forces. As you are well aware, our office handles all information that we recive from any source on any species, from Salarian STG intelligence to Spectre reports, and combat data and after action reports. We make the threat profiles of any and all species that exist in Citadel Space and provide that information to Operations and our field commanders so that they can better deal with threats." General Septimus said professionally, holding up his arm and taping controls on his Omni-tool, the central hologram projector in the table lit up. Councilor Tevos and Anotus noted Valern's silence, as if he were trying to shield himself from the information, but as Septimus was about to speak, he responded to the looks from his fellow councilors.

"The Turian Hierarchy has made contact with an unknown alien species at Relay-314. We detected them attempting to blind activate a Mass Relay. As our detachment moved to stop them, their ships opened fire on us, we eliminated the majority of the fleet, but one of their craft escaped. We sent a scouting party after the vessel and located what we thought was suspected was the planet the fleet was based at. A ground force was assembled along with the 89th flotilla. We attempted to invade and pacify the world. We failed." Councilor Valern said quietly, looking to his Asari and Salarian counterparts. Neither one spoke immediately, they both absorbed the last two words in the Councilor's statement; _We Failed._ It was startling enough that neither one of the other councilors had the chance to say much of anything for a few moments. The Turian Hierarchy had waged a century long war against the Krogan and won in the end…now they admitted defeat at the hands of an unknown species. Valern waited a few moments and then gestured for General Septimus to continue. The veteran commander cleared his throat and begin to speak, while the holo of Shanxi hung in the air above the table.

"A fleet of fifty craft centered on the Dreadnought _Bostra_ was transferred from their peacekeeping duties, along with ten full legions of ground forces. Our troops entered the system two weeks after our contact at Relay 314. Orbital supremacy was achieved and we landed ground forces. Ground combat operations were undertaken in built up urban terrain and faced extremely stiff human resistance. Their ground forces are well disciplined, and are armed with mass accelerator small arms, highly advanced indirect fire weapons, and a wide selection of soldier portable support weapons. They possessed capable body armor and exhibited a high degree of tactical and strategic ability. Ground combat forces encountered no Biotics of any kind or any kind of Kinetic barrier shielding on ground forces. Ground troops advancing against the humans experienced fierce resistance and took heavy casualties." General Septimus explained as the holo shifted to an overhead image of the urban battle and it's progression.

"General, what time frame are we looking at here?" Councilor Anouts asked, watching the slow progression of the Turian front lines.

"Eighteen days of ground combat Councilor. The Majority of it in a dense urban environment." General Septimus provided.

"Casualties?" Anotus asked.

"78% dead, 10% wounded approximately, 12% combat effective and walking wounded."

"Human?"

"Turian." General Septimus said darkly. Matriarch Tevos and Councilor Anotus reeled back as if they'd been physically struck. Neither one was a military commander, but they knew that Turians were the most disciplined and combat capable soldiers in the Citadel, they didn't send raw recruits against an entrenched enemy. But almost eight out of every ten soldiers killed…that was horrifying.

"General, are you telling me that 80,000 Turians died on this Human world, trying to invade it?" Matriarch Tevos asked rhetorically.

"Yes Councilor." General Septimus replied. His own shock long since replaced with professional analysis…not that it was good.

"That must be inaccurate." Councilor Anotus said gravely.

"It is not." Councilor Valern said quietly, looking at the Salarian seriously. Anotus opened his mouth slightly to speak, but closed it again, nodding slightly.

"Please, proceed General." Councilor Tevos said. Septimus nodded and returned to the display.

"From what we can gather from the battle data supplied us, the Human fleet arrived in system. It assaulted our fleet and engaged first with fighters and bombers, then with directed energy weapons of extreme power. The fleet included what we would consider to be twenty three Dreadnoughts, judging by size, though only eleven used any kind of spinal mount weapons system. The entire fleet size was estimated to be one hundred and fifty vessels. They lacked long range mass accelerator weapons, their high energy weapons appeared to be in two categories. One firing a high energy slug of what sensors believed to be a fusion round. Another…we don't know." Septimus said.

"You don't know? Don't you have access to that information General?" Tevos asked sharply, her voice betraying the slightest hint of agitation. General Septimus frowned and struck several keys on his Omni-tool. A close up of the mid sized human craft appeared. There was no outward signs other than a slight glowing at the end of a large hump running along the spine of the craft. In a simultaneous display, a Turian cruiser exploded in fire.

"No, we don't Councilor. Whatever weapon they used breached the shields and armor of our Cruiser without any kind of resistance or signature beyond the destruction of the craft. We estimate that the weapons range is very inferior to that of a Mass Accelerator weapon and it lacks rapid fire capability…but that is small comfort." General Septimus said.

"How many vessels survived this engagement?" Councilor Anotus asked.

"Two frigates that Admiral Varkus ordered to retreat through Relay 314 to Turian space. They brought back the battle data, but Admiral Varkus's second in command included a message that the situation was untenable, and that the Admiral was giving the order to surrender his force." General Septimus provided in response…but the looks on the faces of Councilor Anotus and Councilor Tevos were not ones of reassurance. They both looked to be containing their concern for the situation as best they could…and being politicians, they were doing it very well. Just not well enough.

"So that is what required the laying of twenty new dreadnoughts, and the mobilization of five million Turian soldiers?" Councilor Tevos asked sharply, her eyes flaring for a moment before she calmed herself.

"Yes Councilor." Valern replied.

"This is a dangerous situation Councilor. Very dangerous indeed. A conflict with these Humans could result in a great deal more lost life. If we are to prepare ourselves for a war, I think it prudent to attempt to make peaceful contact. Hopefully we can diffuse this war before it escalates." Councilor Tevos said, her voice leaving out words that rang clearly in everyone's mind; '_this war you started'._ The accusation was there, but at this level of politics, among this group of beings, one couldn't be so petty as to point fingers and blame someone. Mistakes had been made, and failures had occurred, a misunderstanding had spiraled into a full scale war. They would need to seek out these humans and attempt to communicate with them, hopefully, they would not be obstinate.

"I trust that all proper measures have been taken for security? Is it possible that the humans have passed through the relay on the offensive against you?" Councilor Anotus asked.

"No councilor, we have a fleet guarding the matching Mass Relay. If they come, we will know about it." Councilor Valern replied, confident in that at least. A full fleet was waiting, with four dreadnoughts, and they were prepared to maneuver this time, they weren't pinned in place. Valern looked back as General Septimus cleared his throat.

"Councilor…a human fleet just passed through the Mass Relay to engage the Turian defensive armada." Septimus said, reading the words on his Omni-tool in shock.

"Your forces are engaging them now Councilor?" Matriarch Tevos asked, shocked. The humans had marshaled their forces and were counterattacking though Relay 314 into Turian Space.

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**2157, Late November, Relay 187 Linked to Relay 314**

It was called Operation Lightning Hammer, and considering that it was the single largest and longest ranged military offensive that any member of the Systems Alliance had ever undertaken. In raw numbers of spacecraft or combat troops, it dwarfed even some of the largest operations undertaken by Humanity during the height of it's mass warfare. Now, forces had been moved from the core worlds of the Alliance and marshaled at Shanxi, prepared to burst forth through the Shanxi-Theta Mass Relay. It was an immense armada as well. The First Fleet had been bolstered by elements of second and third, doubling it's combat power in preparation for the engagement that was going to take place on the other side of the Mass Relay. The Turian prisoners that had been captured were agreeable enough to provide Alliance military intelligence with a much clearer picture of the Hierarchy…and the galaxy beyond the Relay. Even the Turian vessel's navigation systems had been torn apart analyzed by military intelligence, and scientific researchers…giving the Alliance a very detailed picture of Council space to go with it's assessments and the old data provided by the Salarian scout ship. Now the Alliance knew just where to strike, and they were ready to give the Turian Hierarchy a very rude introduction to just what Alliance combat arms were capable of.

Over three hundred Naval vessels, capital ships, carriers and escorts, had been marshaled at Shanxi. Three million ground troops, split across three separate Army commands, all of which had their own objectives. Three Turian worlds would be the first targets, all of them on the other end of the Relay, and all three were going to be taken to give a degree of defensive depth to Alliance Territory. The First Armada as it was being called, had fallen under command of Fleet Admiral Yarazh a grizzled and very capable Vargr commander who was well known for his strategic acumen. Although there was little room for subtlety in the main assault planned. Yarazh's Strategic plan was to mass his naval forces and smash through the blockading fleet…mind you, he had made some decisions on that matter. The Systems Alliance had done a large amount of war gaming when it came to invading through a Mass Relay, and his fleet commander, Admiral Zharv had altered the dispositions of his fleet accordingly…both from the war gaming plans and with a close examination of Turian combat capabilities.

Admiral Zharv knew that Turian ships were deadly at long distance. Once they hit the sweet spot for their weapons, they could pick off your craft with a merciless long range bombardment from their dreadnoughts and Cruisers. Too far, and they could sling slugs at you, but you had the chance to dodge them if your crew was incredibly good. Close range, and you could dodge before they could get a bead on you. That made things simple for the Vegan Admiral. He massed all his Corvettes, Frigates, and Cruisers into a single striking force. None of them boasted heavy duty spinal mount weapons. Even though his Battleships and Battle-Cruisers could maneuver at closer ranges than their Turian opposites…Zharv wasn't going to risk moving those vessels into the attack first. No, his lighter ships were going to jump through first, followed by his heavy warships and Carriers. His light vanguard had a hell of a fight, but they weren't supposed to win it, they were supposed to attack and drive back the Turian forces so that the Alliance follow up could move in unmolested.

And as be fitting the Commander of the First fleet his tactical strategy had worked perfectly. At the cost of 47 Corvettes, 31 Frigates and 19 Cruisers, the vanguard and driven the Turian Armada away from the Mass Relay and out of their optimal firing range, while the second battle group of his Capital Ships had deployed and decimated the Turian forces with Meson gun and Fusion cannon fire, along with long range fighter and bomber strikes. Fully two thirds of the Turian Armada had been destroyed in a scant twenty minutes fighting, the crews and captains of the capital ships disappointed that they were simply mopping up for their lighter escorts. The fighter and bomber pilots were about as venomous…but of low enough rank that they could be more crass and profane about their situation. But they knew that the strategy had worked, and it was better to sacrafice a Corvette and a Frigate than a Battle-Cruiser. After thirty minutes, the Turian forces retreated, jumping to FTL and leaving a pair of dead dreadnoughts behind them, along with innumerable Frigates, fighters and Cruisers. The First fleet and their composite forces knew that it was the second battle honor that the Systems Alliance Navy had earned in this battle…but for all their incredible combat ability, and victorious engagements, it was bloody. Fifteen thousand Alliance Naval Personnel had died in the engagements of Shanxi and the Battle of the Relay. Admiral Zharv was proud of his crwes, but he knew the murderous toll he had asked of them.

Thankfully the secondary vanguard was composed of the Fourth Fleet from Lair, they'd pulled escort duty for the three invasion forces that were transiting the Mass Relay as Admiral Zharv and Fleet Admiral Yarazh watched the tactical display aboard the SSV _Leonidas_, both of the commanders were watching the large Marine and Army transports moving through the Relay and forming up under Navy patrols and escorts.

"An excellent engagement Admiral Zharv." The Fleet Admiral said, looking at the battle display. The words were congratulatory, but both of the commanders had heavy hearts. Far too many good crewmembers had been lost to the Turians. But the pain of losing beings under your command was lessened -however slightly- knowing that they had died for something worthwhile. Both of the military commanders knew that they risked their lives enlisting in the Alliance Military…and since the Alliance Military was a strictly volunteer force, neither one had been forced to serve. But like the millions of others in this Fleet and Army, they had felt the need to serve and fight for what they believed in.

"We didn't bring this war Admiral, but we will finish it on our terms." Admiral Zharv said grimly, his Vegan voice slightly singsong. Fleet Admiral Yarazh nodded and looked over, the canine Vargr's features were hard to read, as any species had a hard time reading the expressions on another's, but Admiral Zharv knew the 'dogged' determination on his commander's face. Admiral Zharv nodded his eyehood. Both of them knew the objectives that the Marine Corps and Army had to seize. There were three systems that were going to be taken. One was a mostly empty system with a single ragged rock orbiting a gas giant. The Military intelligence estimate was that there were only about fifty thousand Turians there, running an He3 helium mining operation that provided thrust fuel and fusion plant fuel for the Turian Fleet. The second system boasted a million inhabitants, but was a hostile environmental colony that was kept for mining operations. The third objective was the system that the Mass Relay resided in…the first hit, but without a doubt the most difficult target to take. Thirty million Turians, and the System's main fleet base were centered on Macedyn. Shipyards and orbital faculties were fed by the other two systems. Put these three systems together, and combine them with the Mass Relay that linked to Shanxi and the Turian Hierarchy had an ideal jumping off point to strike at the Alliance.

So the Alliance was going to take away those worlds before they had a chance to make use of this marshalling point for a full scale invasion. Taking these three systems in Operation Lightning Hammer would give the Alliance breathing room, and protect Alliance Territory far better than guarding the Shanxi Mass Relay.

Fleet Admiral Yarazh watched the strategic display showing the three target systems, and then flicked his paw over the control holo and zoomed in on the Macedyn system, examining the reconnaissance data being fed into the command bridge by a pair of cloaked Corvettes who'd slipped deep into the system as the vanguard fleet had assaulted the Turian defensive Armada. Surprisingly, there was next to no Turian presence at Macedyn other than their orbital facilities. They had moved all their forces forward…with what seemed to be no reserve. A shocking oversight, but High Command wasn't going to complain about oversights by the Turians. Yarazh watched the symbols representing Task Force 20 moving into local space around Macedyn. Twenty combat starships, including a pair of Line Carriers, the SSV _Moscow_ and SSV _Berlin_ were escorting the main Marine and Army taskforce. Yarazh watched the formation drop from hyperspace and begin to maneuver for orbital assault.

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**2157, Late November, SSV **_**Iwo Jima **_**High Orbit over Macedyn**

Task Force 20 had leapt into close proximity to the Turian world of Macedyn. It's escort craft had maneuvered into defensive formation to provide close support and cover for the core of the formation and the craft of most important. Although, not that any member of the Navy would have wanted to admit, but the Marine and Army assault carriers were the most important vessels in their formation. Each of the boxy assault carriers was 30,000 dtons, 900 meters long, almost as large as a line Carrier. Built without the elegant lines of other Alliance craft, an assault carrier was a functional base for it's landers and drop ships. Depending on what an Assault Carrier was hauling into an orbital assault, it's hangers and cargo bays could hold everything from Light Infantry Divisions prepared to be landed in company and platoon sized drop ships, to Marine Divisions that would make individual meteoric entry in individual drop pods.

The ten Assault Carriers in the center of the Naval formation held the 1st Combined Detachment. Made up of Marine and Army units, it was the initial landing force for the invasion. Six full Marine Divisions, along with two Marine Cavalry Divisions were primed for drop, along with them were two Army Airborne Divisions. All told, the forces had about 100,000 ground troops prepped for the initial landing, with another half a million prepared for the follow up landings. It was comparable to the Turian force that had been leveled against Shanxi, but the Alliance wasn't going to invade a planet on the cheap. For all intents and purposes, they would be invading a planet that had the potential to boast 30 million possible combatants. Not something that the Alliance was going to overlook. But they were sending in the best they had.

General Kyle Obert was in command of the landing forces that had been arrayed to drop on Macedyn. He had his orders and knew exactly where his forces would be landing and coming into contact. Unlike the Turians, his forces weren't going to be landing in one place and then moving into contact. Obert's orders and plan was more direct. His Marine divisions would be striking at the main targets across the surface of Macedyn, targeting governmental centers and military bases on the surface. While the Marines hit targets across the major Turian population centers, the two Army Airborne divisions would land and seize the main spaceports on the surface. A lightning strike across the surface of Macedyn.

Obert's Marine Divisions were preparing for their roles in engaging the Turian ground troops and forcing them into combat, they were certainly the best equipped for it. The almost 10,000 soldiers in a Marine division were trained and equipped to undertake 'Meteoric' entry into a target planet's atmosphere. Utilizing individual drop pods, Marines could strike at targets faster and harder than any other method of orbital insertion. Combined with their power armor and Fusion Weapons, and working in close concert with Marine Cavalry forces using heavy and light armor, Marines could place immense firepower anywhere on the surface of a planet barely minutes of leaving their drop ships. The two Airborne Divisions in the Combined Detachment didn't have the same ability to undertake meteoric drops onto a planets surface. Instead, they utilized 'HALO' jumps, or High Altitude, Low Opening drops into a planetary surface. Compared to the blazing fireballs dropping from the skies that heralded a Marine Assault, an Airborne Division's entry was only announced by the silent drop of thousands of soldiers dropping from the very limits of the upper atmosphere of a planet in free fall before opening their chutes and landing en-mass. It was the whisper to a Marine Division's thunder. You saw Marines when they blazed through the skies like demons riding flames, you saw paratroopers when they were assaulting your positions as you watched the Marines.

General Obert wasn't making the drop himself though, even though he was a Marine and Marine officers led from the front, he had to maintain overall control of the operation. Which was why he had the distasteful task of watching the planetary tactical display and ensuring that his plans were followed. Not that there were any issues so far. Transports were moving from the Assault Carriers, Marine and Army craft had moved into positions and were waiting the count down to drop. Obert watched the Line carriers scrambling their fighters and bombers in preparation for close air support of the ground troops. It was hard to sit and watch your forces moving into position…that sense of dreadful anticipation, watching the pieces being moved into place, knowing what was going to happen, knowing your troopers were about to go into harms way while you watched them…safe behind warships, armor and shields…not something that a hard fighting Marine General could ever expect.

"General, the Turian Commander on world is attempting to contact you." General Obert heard Colonel Rhodes inform him. Obert looked up from the planetary holo and chuckled slightly. The Marine General was not the kind of person to negotiate, and Fleet Admiral Yarazh was the man who commanded the Fleet and Operation Lightning Hammer. General Obert wasn't the kind of person to toy with his opponent either. He'd heard the reports from General Williams, how the Turian arrogance and condescension had seemed to drip from the Commanding Admiral's communication…and General Obert knew that the Turian prisoners who'd been captured had been devastated by their defeat at the hands of what they had considered to be inferiors.

"Of course he is." General Obert said shaking his head.

"He's exceptionally interested in telling us to go back to whatever dirt ball we came from General." Colonel Rhodes said calmly, although the Human's eyes twinkled slightly.

"Yes…I'd expect him to want us to leave. But then we gave them the option to leave Shanxi…and they had to be beaten off." General Obert replied, looking at the transcript of the Turian General's messages skyward. He laughed softly, sure that the Turian didn't know that the Alliance could translate _everything _he was saying.

"Yes, he is rather displeased with us." Colonel Rhodes said, looking at the combat display. With a clear of his throat, he redirected General Oberts attention, and the commander nodded. It was time for the invasion to begin.

* * *

Captain Wilson couldn't help but feel like he was born for this kind of thing. Young, tough, and part of the elite, he'd undertaken countless training drops over the years. Every one gave him the same thrill, every one had that same breathtaking beginning. Looking out the rear ramp in the cargo bay, your company lined up behind you, feeling the thin atmosphere tugging at your armor…and looking up at the sky, seeing the soft edges of the atmosphere colored blue beneath you, and looking up into the sky and seeing the blackness of space. Wilson looked down over the edge of the ramp, down to the tans and greens that made up the surface of Macedyn far below. Wilson's helmet display highlighted the objectives and the drop zones, giving the overlays of other companies prepared to drop, and the countdown for the jump. Wilson shifted in his combat armor, the layers of ceramic and nano-alloyed armor close to his skin, while over that was the full harness parachute and combat pack, his pulse rifle tucked to his side. The equipment load out was heavy, but with his combat armor's nano musculature made him move as if he was carrying nothing at all. As he turned and looked to the company, he held up his fist, and the Company gave him the mirror gesture of a thumbs up, everyone was good to go for the drop.

Captain Wilson turned back to the ramp and stepped to the edge, his mag-sealed boots sticking him to the ramp, and letting him lean over the edge, arms spread, and savoring the sensation of vertigo before the jump. He took a deep breath, and watched the flaming entry contrails of the Marines as they began their drops from their own transports...only those tracks burst into existence beneath the altitude the Airborne transports were flying. The Marine pods didn't hit friction until they hit in the Mesosphere of the atmosphere, at about 80 kilometers from the surface. The Airborne troopers had to drop almost a hundred kilometers up. Wilson watched for a long moment as the Marines dropped through the sky. Anyone on the ground who saw a marine re-entry pod streaking towards them…they probably thought the world was about to end, and if you were an enemy soldier…it just might be. Captain Wilson saw the countdown to the drop his full zeros, and he deactivated his boots, letting gravity take him over the edge and pull him down towards the planet.

If Wilson had turned on his exterior audio feeds he wouldn't have heard anything at all, the air was to thin to carry sound. The external temperature around him was almost a hundred below Celsius, cold enough that frost built on the exterior of his armor. But that didn't bother him, his armor was thermal controlled. He arched his body and held himself in position as his armor locked itself to keep the aerodynamic shape needed so that he didn't go off target. If he did, he'd end up hundreds of kilometers off target, alone and in enemy territory. And that was the most dangerous aspect to an Airborne Assault. If your unit got scattered, if you hit bad weather, you were in trouble. The mass airborne assaults undertaken by human armies had dealt with much lower altitudes than this and they had wound up with units spread all over kingdom come. Alliance Airborne Divisions were much more accurate than that. Wilson's armor compensated enough to keep him on target, the armor moving his arms and legs as if he were a smart bomb from centuries past, guided in on a location designated by a GPS locator. Wilson checked the feed on the rear of his helmet and saw his company spread out behind him. All around him were other soldiers from his battalion and regiment, every one dropping in.

The forces dropped through atmosphere in unison, a mass formation dropping through the Mesosphere and the Stratosphere, hitting the 20 kilometer mark Wilson shifted his body slightly, the target drop zone getting closer, the Turian city spreading out beneath him, urban sprawl becoming readily apparent. The large buildings and urban layout was far beneath him, all of it looking regimented and organized…but Captain Wilson's objective wasn't to fight through the city yet, his objective was to take the Spaceport along with the rest of the Division. He looked at the Spaceport beneath him, spread out. It looked a lot like an Alliance Spaceport, sprawling structures, terminals, and hangars. Wilson could see how similar it was, he'd had the briefing information on the possible layout, and theoretical set up…the operation had been laid on very rapidly, but as Captain Wilson dropped, the Company's Battle AI began assigning ID tags to the various structures, and Wilson soon knew what was supposedly the fuel depot, hangars, main terminal, and the control tower. On impulse, Wilson adjusted his target along with his company. In unison they changed course and as they dropped past one kilometer in altitude, Wilson's parachute automatically deployed, filling the air above him with the synthetic cute that yanked him from freefall to a light drop.

Wilson had done this dozens of times before, and his hands held onto the control yokes, guiding himself down towards the top of the control tower. The upper surface was flat and he adjusted his drop quickly, aiming for it. After dropping from a hundred kilometers up, the top of the control tower came up in the blink of an eye. Wilson hit, his boots dropping into a run and his feet running across the rooftop, his fist hitting the release trigger for his chute and letting it drift off, his other gauntlet grabbing his rifle and dropping to his knee. Wilson brought the weapon up as the rest of the squad landed around him. Wilson looked around and nodded to the command squad's sergeant, the Vargr nodded and motioned for the team to follow, his weapon raised. They had to clear out the control tower and secure it so that the Turians couldn't use the Spaceport. Wilson looked out from the top of the control tower and saw the other Airborne troops landing, parachutes filling the sky as they finished their drops. Platoons and companies forming up and moving out across the tarmac. In many locations they overwhelmed Turians who were expecting Marine drop pods, not masses of soldiers parachuting into their midst.

As Wilson watched, his first Squad began landing on the control tower roof, shedding their chutes and joining the command squad, except for two soldiers. Together, the pair raced to the edge of the control tower, and one pulled a bundle off of her combat harness. Undoing the tabs, the two drove spikes into the roof. Fastening the long bundle to it, the two troopers shoved the banner off the edge and the massive flag unfurled down the side of the control tower. That hadn't been authorized by anyone, but Captain Wilson wasn't about to stop them. The flag was going to stay up…having a forty foot long Systems Alliance banner flying from the control tower of the main Spaceport on Macedyn, it was a slap on the face for the Turians…and every soldier who'd seen Shanxi had wanted to deliver that kind of a slap to the collective face of every Turian on Macedyn. The Company Commander looked out the spaceport and watched lines of paratroopers landing under fire…and now it begins.

* * *

Sergeant Branth sat in his drop pod, waiting for the green light. Not that his launch towards Macedyn would be sedate. The 28th Marine division was 'racked and loaded' by regiment and were waiting to be launched on the positions identified by the leading waves of Marines. Branth was clad in his Murphy pattern combat armor, Aslan Variant. That alone was enough to turn him from a simple soldier into death incarnate. Capable of running at almost 90 kilometers an hour, capable of powered flight at 300 kilometers an hour in short skips via anti-grav propulsion, able to haul 900 lbs of gear and lift almost a ton of weight, Murphy armor was an incredibly dangerous piece of equipment that every marine was intimately familiar with. Combined with the elaborate sensor suite, communications system, integral recon drones and battle suit AI system, a Marine had access to an immense amount of data, an amount that multiplied exponentially with the fire team and squad level integrated systems. Branth was linked up to his armor via a nanotech neural link, he didn't wear the armor, he _was_ the armor. The sensors were his senses, the servos and synthetic musculature were his muscles, the armor plate was his skin. The AI was a part of his mind, making his thoughts faster and analyzing information better than he could without it. In Branth's right gauntlet was the 'Standard Battle Weapon'….or as most marines called it, the 'sun-gun'. A self contained Fusion gun that used Mass Effect fields to compress plasma into a fusion bolt, it was the most advanced small arm in the Alliance. The weapon could burn through starship hull plating…in essence, it was the same as firing a ball of the sun at a target.

All this advanced technology and equipment had come at a cost. Training to become a Marine was no easy task. Taking the traditions of the various Human Marine forces…the Systems Alliance Marine Corps had created the kind of training regime that only one in four recruits became Marines…and that was _after _they had passed the rigorous background screening, application process, testing, and interviews that turned down far more applicants than they approved. For every Alliance Marine, there had been dozens who'd wanted to have that title…but for every one chosen to enter the vanguard of Marine training, two would cycle out…and one would die. Six months of basic training called the 'grinder' whose only purpose was to shake out those who might have had the background and desire to be Marines, but not the drive. Another three months of education in the fine art of using the elaborate grim reapers cowl that was Murphy Armor. After that, another nine months of training in how to wage war as a Systems Alliance Marine, from meteoric drops on planets, to urban warfare, and space boarding operations. They covered it all in exacting detail, and by the end, the average marine was an artist of war.

Branth knew he was the best, but that was the ready confidence of someone who remembered their training and knew their own ability, such was the difference between confidence and arrogance. The Aslan warrior had his eyes closed and was listening to the feed from the division 'scrambler' feed. Since the first Marine Assault Carriers had dropped out of hyperspace, they had been broadcasting the standard jamming signals across the Turian communications networks. But the Marines never broadcast static, they broadcast their signature over the airways. One thing that Reticulans, Aslan, Vargr and Vegans had never heard in all their days was the shrill tones of bagpipes. While the Reticulans had been recipients of that kind of jamming during the short and sharp quarantine operation of their world, Aslan, Vargr and Vegans had seen Alliance Marines in action when they'd been a 'human only' operation…and for all of them, the sound of bagpipes had become synonymous with impending doom. Branth remembered hearing the regimental pipes and drums corps play for the incoming recruits, and the chilling words that the instructor sergeant had relayed to his class of four hundred young trainees.

"_Those are the sound of the pipes. For all of you now, those are the sound of fear, of pain, of conflict, and death. Most of you, they will always be that. Never the sound of a friend, only that of an enemy coming…or at best, a deadly guardian coming to your aid. For a few of you, those sounds will become a lullaby. The sounds of friends and allies, the sound that you will hear and know that your enemies hear that same sound…and quake in fear of it."_

Branth knew that the Turians were learning to fear the sound of the pipes and drums, and as he received the neural information for his platoon he grinned behind his faceplate, eager for the battle. The music changed over to an ancient human martial song. Even though Branth was an Aslan, and his people had a history of clan warfare…he couldn't fault the fact that the humans had done their wars on such a scale that it dwarfed anything the other members of the Alliance had attempted. Alsan and Vargr wars were tribal affairs. Vegans had unified through war, but also through peace. Humans? 10,000 years of constant strife and warfare? From clubs to energy weapons…they knew how to do things…and martial songs…damn, but they had some good ones. As the first strands of Iron Man began to play over the platoon net, he felt his drop pod shudder with acceleration as the pod was fired down a Mass Accelerator in the centerline of the drop ship and rocket plant ward. Branth opened his eyes and he saw the upper orbit of Macedyn beyond the exterior of the pod, fed to his eyes by the neural link that had access to the battle group's sensors. He saw the Airborne transports and their troopers leaping from ramps and free falling like deadfall ordinance towards their objectives. He saw the tracks of other Marine platoons and companies rocketing towards their objectives.

He looked down and saw the 'hostile' and 'friendly' dispositions across the surface of the planet, green and red updated in real time. It highlighted combat zones, units engaged, estimated enemy force dispositions…all in real time, all coming to him as easy as a thought. Branth felt the surface of the pod hit atmosphere and ignite, burning through the upper atmosphere in the trademark assault of a Marine division, riding fire. Branth felt his mind almost 'slow' soaking up the intelligence on his landing zone, and his objectives. It looked to be a large open area sided by multi leveled structures and hangars. The Aslan chuckled behind his armor, they were dropping right into the middle of a Turian military faculty, using the drill field as their landing zone. He could sense his platoon and knew that they were just as eager as he was to get into the fight…and an military base was one hell of a good place to find one. Branth felt a shudder and the pod adjusted itself, aiming precisely to drop his company in a perfect formation a kilometer above ground level before exploding from around him, leaving the Marines to undertake the rest of their drop with their suit's integral anti-grav systems. It was just like training, no muss, no fuss, no problems. But at the end of the drop, there were real hostile soldiers who would be armed and waiting for him…trying to kill him. All Branth could think was one thing;

Let them try.

* * *

**2157, The Citadel**

The Council had spent much of the day examining the information coming in from the Macedyn System…none of it looked good. While the Turians were putting up an admirable and tenacious resistance, the Human forces had landed and invaded with immense force, and from what they could surmise, the humans had inserted the equivalent of the Turian forces defeated at Shanxi in the first hour of combat operations….and there was no sign of them letting up on their troop landings. The main spaceports had been seized, heavy equipment was landing, troops had seemingly jumped from almost orbit to land by parachute without registering on sensors. Others had landed in individual drop pods, armed with incredibly powerful weaponry and battle armor, they'd dropped directly on key facilities, landing in the heart of defense instillations. Combat raged across all of Macedyn's four continents. The Turian populace was mobilizing, but with human forces on their streets, they couldn't form up into more cohesive fighting forces…they merely were doing everything that they could to try and fight. None of the councilors had any hope that they could fight off the human onslaught that was landing in their midst…Turians were disciplined and competent, but they were used to fighting battles with some coherence of a command structure…as it was…the humans were fighting a well armed, well trained, well motivated…mob.

The rest of the picture was just as underwhelming. Human forces had landed on two nearby systems, taking fuel refineries and mining colonies with rapid assaults which for the most part overwhelmed the shocked defenders. Even the armada arrayed at the Mass Relay near Macedyn had been eradicated by the human fleet. It looked as if they were unstoppable…and none of the Councilors wanted to think about what that meant for the Citadel. All three of them, Councilor Valern included, realized that the Turian Hierarchy had bitten off more than they could chew. The humans were angry and they were fighting back…and they'd managed to sweep away two Turian Fleets…even with massive losses, they'd destroyed their opposition. The Humans had won bloody victories, and seemed determined to wrestle Macedyn from the Turian grasp as well.

"Councilors, the Hirearchy is preparing a massive assault to drive the humans back through the mass relay and carry the fight to them. I must officially ask for aid from the Asari Republics and the Salarian Union in this campaign. These humans threaten us all." Councilor Valern said, his demeanor weak, but not devoid of the expectation of support. The Hierarchy had never asked such a thing of the Asari or Salarians, the treaties had been in place for millennia of course, should the need arise, they could ask their allies for more help than diplomacy and espionage. The response he recived was enough to make him rock back from the table.

"No Councilor, the Salarian Union will not be making any attempt to move our forces against these Humans." Councilor Anotus said calmly…making Valern blink hard in response.

"Councilor, surely you aren't serious…" Valern replied.

"Quite serious councilor. We've seen a hint of what these humans are capable of, and I doubt very much the fleet would welcome open warfare with them. We might be victorious if our offensive is planned well, but it would decimate our combat capablities, not something we can afford to risk with the Terminus Systems already in a belligerent mood." Councilor Anotus said.

"I see no reason to suspect these Humans would have acted aggressively had the Turian Hierarchy made contact with them. The incident at Relay 314 aside, the attempt to seize their world was a gross overstep of your authority Councilor." Matriarch Tevos said sternly, and was rewarded with a slight deflating of the already weakened Councilor Valern. The Turian made as if to speak, but merely nodded, his eyes locked on the conference table. He knew that the Hierarchy was in a dreadful situation, and that they'd gotten their by their own hook.

"What do you suggest Councilor?" Anotus asked.

"I suggest that we send an envoy to the humans and attempt to negotiate a ceasefire with them. This all stems from an unfortunate situation and peace should be our greatest goal, it's restoration is our primary concern as members of this Council. Agreed?" Councilor Tevos asked, looking to Anotus and then to Valern. The Salarian nodded pointedly in agreement, while Councilor Valern managed a bare tilt of his head. The shame that the Turian Councilor felt would no doubt be shared by his species before this dreadful affair was over.

* * *

**A/N: And there we go folks. Sorry about the lag there. Less combat heavy, more development of a sort of the final stage of the First Contact war. More to come, I promise you. **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Gah! Yes! I know, Star Wars has the Force. That was a minecraft brain lapse folks, sorry. And here we go, new chapter, I hope everyone enjoys. **

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**GNN News Broadcast, November 24th**** 2157**

The image of Macedyn Spaceport with the massive Systems Alliance Banner fluttering from the primary control tower was one that had become familiar to many in Alliance High Command after constant reports from the ground combat that had been raging across Macedyn for days. But for the average citizen of the Alliance, all they knew about the fighting against the Turians were reports coming in from Shanxi, and the press release from High Command that the Alliance Military had taken the offensive against the Turian invaders. Right now, the sight of Ca Jen-rah, the most popular news anchor-female on the Galactic News Network, standing with the Turian tower and it's Alliance banner flying was a moment that had most people glued to their holos. The Aslan woman was wearing body armor and a helmet and had several light infantryman in attendance, but it was plain to see that those efforts were more for caution's sake rather than necessity.

"Systems Alliance General Kyle Obert reports that all hostile resistance on the Turian world of Macedyn has ended. After twelve days of high intensity conflict across the surface of the hostile world, the planetary Governor surrendered all forces to Obert and ordered the population to capitulate. He and Fleet Admiral Yarazh have considered Operation Lightning Hammer, the invasion of Macedyn and two other Turian systems to be a complete success for First Fleet and the Marine and Army ground forces that undertook the landings. As you can see behind me, the Alliance Military is not shy about showing just how triumphant it's forces have been." Ca said, raising a hand and gesturing at the large banner fluttering in the breeze, before panning over towards several large troop transports that were offloading AFVs and APCs along with marching ground forces. Ca looked back to the camera before speaking again.

"The Invasion began almost two weeks ago with the First fleet mobilizing out of Shanxi and invading through the Mass Relay system to strike at Macedyn. While token forces took two other systems from the Turians, the bulk of the Marine and Army forces landed here, on Macedyn. In combination with Airborne jumps and Marine meteoric entry forces, nearly the entirety of the Turian Hierarchy's ground forces were engaged in the first hour on planet. Follow up drops on the main spaceports left the defending troops with little hope as massive numbers of infantry and armor poured planeside. It's hard to doubt the fact that our forces faced a grim task, and went through heavy losses in taking their objectives. Turian opposition was fierce, but in the end, futile. And now, Macedyn, formerly of the Turian Hierarchy, has a Systems Alliance occupation force in place, and an Alliance fleet overhead. Without a doubt, the Turians have been dealt a major blow for their assault on Shanxi. As for the next step? High command is rather tight lipped about that, but after this victory, we can only expect the Turian Hierarchy to view the Systems Alliance with fear and much more respect than when they reached Shanxi. This is Ca Jen-rah of GNN on Macedyn."

* * *

**Military Research Station **_**FrostKnight**_**, November 24****th**** 2157**

Julian Illius was not a happy Turian. After he and his unit had surrendered on Shanxi to the Humans at Admiral Varkus's command, they had done as ordered, stacking their weapons and being taken prisoner by the humans who'd treated them properly. A surprise for most of the troops who had expected these humans to try and _eat _them if they'd surrendered. But for the most part, the humans had been exemplary in their treatment of prisoners. Compared to how Krogan would have treated them…it was as though they were in a resort. They had food, for the most part, their rations…but the human had been providing them with synthetic nutrients and food pastes that they'd synthesized for dextro-protien based diets. It was a surprisingly generous gesture by the humans. But that just made most of the POWs suspicions of what was going to happen. But nothing bad had happened, no executions…except of course the general propaganda being given to the POWs that the humans had taken Admiral Varkus captive and planned to put him on trial for war crimes…that was ludicrous. He was a commander and a member of the Citadel Peacekeeping forces. The humans had no authority to do such a thing…

But then, that wasn't true…was it? They were the victors…and they weren't just human. The Turians hadn't been briefed on the fact that there were four species in the Systems Alliance. The vicious looking Vargr and Aslan, the strange Vegans, and the Humans. All allied and working together as a unified force, much like the Citadel Species, but on a smaller scale. Julian was shocked, a lot of things that they'd been told by their commanders had been wrong, from the way that the humans -Alliance!- would treat them, to the ability of them to actively resist their invasion of Shanxi…not to mention their technology and military ability…but that had all fallen by the wayside after spending a week in a fenced in perimeter outside of Shanxi's capital city. A group of Alliance troopers had marched into the compound and grabbed thirty Turian soldiers, marching them out. Each of the prisoners were scanned as they marched into a human transport ship and moved into holding cells.

Julian had heard something that one of the camp guards had been told to 'mark them KIA'. He didn't know what that meant, he wasn't familiar enough with the Alliance language and they didn't offer him any kind of translator, so he was in the dark…and he was completely alone. Each of the thirty troopers that had been grabbed and placed in separate sealed cells. None of them could communicate with any others. It was a striking difference to the way the Alliance had treated their prisoners before this. Julian had laid on the cot on one side of the small cell and tried to sleep, feeling a tingling discomfort in his head as he lay there, not sure just what was happening…but not liking the feel of it. He'd slept for hours, the monotony of his time in isolation not broken by the slightest outside influence, not even a guard checking on him. Either they were sure he wasn't going anywhere, or they didn't think he'd try anything. They were right on the first, but not the second. Julian had made an effort at examining the door, but there was no feature he could exploit to escape. So Julian slept.

He didn't know how long he was locked in the cell…all he knew was that after what seemed like a day, the hatch opened and a pair of soldiers were there. Both of them wore the combat armor he'd seen numerous times on Shanxi being worn by human troops, but these two wore matte black, and held their weapons aimed at him. Julian nodded and stood up, keeping his hands in the open. Somehow, both of these humans seemed much more aggressive and prone to kill him than those guarding him on Shanxi. He cautiously rose and walking into the corridor. The guards gestured and he marched off the ship into a massive hangar. Looking up, Julian could see a large overhead hatch closing and see snow drifting down from the gap. Before Julian could think about that for more than a moment, he was roughly shoved along by one of the black armored guards, this one a Vargr if his armor's helmet and leg structure were any indication. Julian nodded and walked along across the large hanger, forcing himself not to shiver in the cold air. He could see his breath…that made him blink…he'd _never _seen his breath before Palaven was too hot… But he didn't have time to think about that as he was loaded onto a large elevator with the other prisoners, black armored guards surrounding them.

"Where are we?" One of the other prisoners asked in a low voice, but before Julian could say he didn't know, one of the guards raised his rifle and pointed it at the other soldier's face.

"Talk again, and you die." Was the short command in Turian, and the other POW could only nod in agreement, accepting the rather heavy handed treatment in stride. There wasn't much that he could do. He was on an Alliance world, cut off, and being kept as a prisoner by a group who didn't care if he lived or died. He kept his mouth shut and followed the rest of the POWs as they were herded out of the elevator and escorted by the black armored guards through security checkpoints and airlocks, deep into the heart of the facility. Julian looked around trying to take in everything he could, but the labels on the walls were in some language he couldn't translate, and there were very few points of reference that he could safely consider to be universal. Just about the only one he thought to be universally bad was the one with what looked like a human skull over a pair of bones…that one was showing up a lot.

Julian and the rest of the prisoners were escorted through a final checkpoint and into a long cell block, patrolled by more Alliance soldiers in black armor with weapons. Each prisoner was moved into an individual cell and locked in. Julian examined the walls of his cell and saw no window, nothing but a bed, a sink and a lavatory…it was a depressingly empty room, and he was trapped. Of course, like any soldier, he had a duty to try and escape…but trying and succeeding were two very different things. Instead of trying to claw his way out of an armored cell, he just laid down on the bed and tried to sleep. Although he didn't actually get the chance to sleep for very long though, he was awakened by two more of the black armored soldiers opening the door without warning and gesturing for him to come with them. Julian stood up and marched along, following one, leading the other. The Alliance troopers didn't expect much trouble from him, and for the moment Julian wasn't about to provide it as he was marched onto another elevator and brought to a different section of the base. Although this one was less utilitarian and military oriented than the cell block he'd been interred in. This felt more luxurious…more…comfortable. As if the people here weren't soldiers, but civilians. Before Julian could examine things too much, he was led into a small room that was filled with strange holo displays and equipment arrayed around a central reclining chair that seemed to have been built for Turian physiology. The pair of guards gestured to the chair and Julian laid down on it. Before he could ask what was going on, restraints were snapped across his chest, neck, wrists and legs…leaving him with few options but outrage…ignoring the admonishment earlier to keep quiet he spoke up.

"What is this? I'm a prisoner of war, what is the meaning of this outrage!" Julian shouted, reflexively working the restraints, but not shifting them. He struggled for a moment, beginning to feel more than a little panicked. What the hell did these creatures have planned for him? Clearly he wasn't a POW anymore…they were doing something that was far beyond the rules of war. If the Council found out about this…

…the Council wasn't going to find out about it. These people weren't stupid enough to let him go after this.

"Do calm down soldier. We're not here to do anything untoward. Actually, I was just hoping to ask you a few questions." Came a voice from elsewhere in the room. Julian couldn't see anyone speaking, but the voice was clear, and in perfect Turian….

…too perfect Turian. There was no Accent whatsoever in the voice, and it was certain that there would be some kind of accent…something that didn't sound right…but instead it sounded like the kind of pleasant, refined Turian voice that you saw on shows on the net…devoid of anything…

"Who are you?" Julian asked aloud, his eyes darting around wildly. A soft laugh came from somewhere in the room. At the edge of his vision an indistinct figure stood wearing a white jacket. Though the Turian wasn't exactly well versed in the differences between male and female human but Julian supposed that this had to be a female from the voice and slighter build.

"I'm Doctor Raven. According to the information, you're the equivalent of a Corporal and your name is Julian, am I right?" The female asked, walking up next to the chair that Julian was strapped to. She leaned close to him, her green eyes and unlined face examining him closely. She didn't say anything and Julian remained silent, merely glaring up at her for a few long moments. The human female shrugged and turned as another human walked into the room carrying a tray…no…it wasn't a human, it was shaped like one though…Julian fought at the restraints to try and get a better look at what had just entered the chamber. For a moment, he thought it was someone wearing body armor with clothing over it…but as he looked, the head was too small for it to be a full helmet. And he noticed that the creature only wore a while jacket like the human female.

The head was dull metal in finish, it looked like a very gaunt human…almost like it was a metallic skull of a human, he'd seen those back on Shanxi and it seemed like an apt comparison…but as Julian blinked hard and the figure moved, he saw that it only had a rudimentary head shape when set next to a human…two eyes, a small…'mouth' for lack of a better term, and that was it. The Turian soldier couldn't help but feel that although the creature looked like a construct, like a robot, it moved like it were alive.

"Doctor, I have the necessary doses of Trance ready for the patient. We ran a biological calculation on him and we don't feel that the Detro-protien base of his cellular structure is of concern with the drugs affects." The construct said, lifting the tray for the human female. She turned and nodded, lifting an injector off of the tray the construct held and examine the glowing green fluid in the container.

"What are you doing to me?" Julian said sharply struggling against his restraints with more fury than ever before as the female shifted the injector in her hand. The metallic formed construct turned and looked down at him on the chair, it's head tilting to the side and examining his efforts to free himself. Julian couldn't help but feel like a lab animal struggling in front of a researcher…and he _was._

"Will there be any conflict with the Hemocyanin in the patient's blood, Doctor Heka?" The female, Doctor Raven, asked looking at the injector and tapping the vial idly. The construct looked up and shook it's head awkwardly.

"No Doctor. We've run the simulations numerous times and on a cellular level, there is no lethal interaction for the drug, physiologically, we cannot be sure until we test it on a subject with an intact nervous system." Dr Heka said. Raven nodded and lowered the injector to Julian's throat, pressing it against his main artery. The Turian struggled in vain against his restraints as he felt the injector hiss against his skin and a soft coldness flood into his body. He grunted in shock as the cold sensation spread up his neck and seemed to seep into his brain. He blinked hard, trying to shake his head, but he couldn't. For a few long moments, nothing happened, merely the background noise of the female human breathing and looking at displays, while the construct stood silent and immobile. Then…ever so slowly, Julian began to feel his body tingle. It was subtle at first, spreading from the tips of his feet and fingertips inwards. Up his legs and down his arms, to his body, up his back and through his chest, up to his throat. His whole body seemed to tingle slightly and softly, it was maddening for a few moments, but slowly fell to a background sensation as the coldness in his brain got stronger and stronger. Julian began blinking and breathing heavily, almost gasping for breath.

"Relax Julian. We didn't poison you, we didn't do anything that could harm you. We have no intention of killing you soldier. Just relax, we are honestly only going to ask you questions. Even if you refuse to answer, there won't be any repercussions. Just questions you don't have to answer. Alright? So relax. We've used this drug countless times. It's not a truth serum, it's not a narcotic. Just calm yourself." Julian heard the human female say calmly and reasonably. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath…it sounded believable, it sounded honest, and he did feel much calmer. His breathing slowed down and he tried to nod.

"Alright…alright…ask your questions." Julian said.

"Brainwave activity shows no reaction." The construct said. Julian looked over as much as he could and wondered what that meant. Before he could open his mouth to ask, he felt the urge to ignore it…and turned back to look up at the ceiling.

"Good. Now, tell me Julian. Where are you from?" Dr. Raven asked…but her voice sounded…off…it was different somehow. It didn't seem to be coming in clearly. Instead, it was muffled….strange.

"Palaven. It's our homeworld." Julian said, but resisted telling anything else. The humans…no, the Alliance didn't need to hear about just where Palaven was, even if their chances of getting there were less likely than him escaping from here.

"Brainwaves spiking over location of Palaven." The construct, Dr. Heka said aloud. It's voice sounded normal.

"Interesting…you don't want to tell us where it is, and that's alright." Dr Raven's voice said. Julian nodded against his restraints involuntarily.

"No, you don't need to know…wait…" Julian paused…he hadn't said that…had he? No…he'd though it though…but…how…

"Easy Julian. You don't need to be thinking about that too hard." Dr. Raven said pointedly. Julian started to obey, but his eyes shot open and looked over at the female human doctor. Something was wrong here…something was very wrong. The tingling in his body was still there, but his brain felt colder than ever…and something about her voice…something was _wrong_ with her voice…but just what was it?

"What are you doing to me?" He asked.

"Asking questions Julian. Tell me about your people." Raven asked in response, but she didn't ask it with words. The voice was inside his _brain_.

"What are you doing!" He practically shouted.

"Brain waves are peaking within acceptable limits, vital signs are fluctuating." The construct supplied. Dr Raven looked up and then back down at Julian.

"Within acceptable limits?" She asked aloud this time, not inside his brain.

"Yes." The construct supplied.

"Then we can continue. Julian, tell me about your people…how do you view yourselves in the universe?" Raven asked, this time, the only chance to her face was the smile on it…but it was not a warm and comforting smile, it was a dangerous one…a smile of a researcher who was learning…and didn't care about the subject of her study beyond the information she could garner from him.

"What…what are you doing?" Julian asked once more, nervous at the sight of the smile.

"I'm learning about you…I'm learning about how you think…I'm learning what your brain feels like. I'm learning how to listen, how to interact, how to read your thoughts. It's a useful talent that is exhibited in the species of the Alliance. We don't know if your Council races even understand Psionics…of course, you have Biotics…but that's not the same. So we want to learn about how your minds work…how you think, how you reason, how you feel." Dr. Raven said.

"You're…reading my mind?" Julian asked nervously, flinching at the thought of this human probing his mind.

"Yes and no Julian. I can't probe your mind and strip you of thoughts and feelings. I'm not that powerful…well, I'm powerful enough…Drazzic found that out…" She said idly…but then focused back on Julian with her 'thought speech', "…but the beauty of this is that I can simply think to you, and you understand, you speak and you think, and I understand. But now it's difficult. Your thoughts are alien, different, unlike a Humans…or a Vegan's or Aslan's or Vargr's. You're a Turian…so I need to ask questions." She thought to him with a smile. Julian felt his very heart shiver at that smile.

"Yes…I'm different from you, alien." Julian growled up at the doctor, trying to counteract the very chilling sensation of fear that was creeping into him. He shook slightly, almost pure terror gripping him as he looked up into that female human's eyes.

"Doctor, brainwaves register elevated endocrine levels and neurochemical indicators corresponding to fear. Vital signs are elevating rapidly." The construct said simply….and as suddenly as the fear appeared in his heart, it vanished. He felt calm again. Julian blinked and felt a shock of rage course through him that he had no doubt was purely his own. Somehow, that human had managed to manipulate his mind, she instilled fear in him, manipulated him…toyed with him.

"Very good Julian, you picked up on that quickly. So your kind does feel fear like humans do. That's good to know. Now…let us continue with the questions, shall we? Unless you want to experience that all over again, for much longer…" Doctor Raven said with that dreadful smile once more.

* * *

The Turian was removed from the room after four hours of probing and a follow up dose of Trance for Doctor Raven to continue her questioning. The Turian had been exhausted by the repeated probing of his mind by the Doctor, and she had experienced a similar degree of exhaustion. Trance worked to make a mind more susceptible to psionic interference, but an alien mind was always difficult to delve into. The doctor leaned against the instrument holder heavily as Dr. Heka catalogued the data that had been gathered. While the point of the exercise had been to ask questions, it hadn't been concerned with a search for answers. No…the objective had been for Doctor Raven to learn more about these creatures, how their minds worked, so that the psionics in the Systems Alliance could carry out their own activities….it was not an easy task.

For over two centuries on earth, Psi powers had been researched by major world governments. The old United States, Russia, China, South Africa and others had all delved into the science of the mind. The examples of mental powers manifested across the history of the human race, sometimes in the form of prophets an sooth sayers, others as magicians and mages…but until the mid 20th century, it had never been explored in depth. The former great powers of earth all explored the fields of the mind…but never developed their technology and research as more than a curiosity. When the borders came down and the Systems Alliance was founded, the various Psionic research programs all came together and compared their databases…and a revolution in Psionic research and identification emerged. Farseeing, remote viewing, mind reading, telekinesis, and numerous other abilities had been identified in subjects…but the truly powerful were rare. Of the billions of Humans, Vegans, Aslan, and Vargr…there were barely a few thousand whose powers were more than a mere curiosity. Those whose abilities were strong enough, like Doctor Raven…they could seemingly manipulate the minds of others, the physical world, energy…all with merely a thought.

Dr Raven knew she had talents, abilities that stretched back over a century. As she looked at the table where the Turian soldier had lain, she thought back to Drazzic so long ago, the first alien, the Salarian…the questions she'd asked, the time she had spent probing at his mind…it was so long ago…things had changed so much…

"Doctor?" Came the synthesized voice from behind her. She was jolted out of her thoughts and turned to look at Doctor Heka as he examined the science data they'd gathered. Raven smiled slightly at the synthetic intelligence in the lab coat. If Raven was a rarity, synthetic intelligences like Heka were the equivalent of a Unicorn. Part of Artificial life experimentation back in the 2050's, Heka and his kind were truly sentient life-forms, living, thinking creatures whose existence had come about by combination of accident and design. Originally intended as a leap into micro Neural computing, Heka and his kind had developed true self awareness in the laboratory. Unlike science fiction though, synthetic intelligences were limited by their core programming like any organic creature was driven by instinct. Too many bad science fiction stories had been written about machines becoming self aware and turning on their creators for the research staff to ignore the possibility of actual life being created. So when Heka's kind 'came to life' they didn't decide to slaughter their creators. Within the Systems Alliance, Synthetic Intelligences were considered citizens, but there were limitations on their creation. They could 'reproduce' with an extremely close examination of their core programming. They were a step above the Artificial Intelligences that ere commonplace throughout the Alliance Military and Civilian sectors. AI's were limited by their programming like a caged animal, dangerous and effective within their limitations, but unable to escape them anymore than an organic being could escape the boundaries of the four dimensions that they existed in. SI's however, merely used their programming as a foundation. They could think and reason, but more importantly, grow beyond their origins.

"Yes Doctor Heka?" Raven asked, straightening herself.

"Is this truly wise? Experimenting on these prisoners, it strikes me as having the potential to cause us great distress should the information be realized by the Citadel Council." Heka said, his monotone synthesized voice betraying an all to clear degree of conflict. Although he didn't have emotions as an organic would know them, his own internal 'conflict' between right and wrong was something any sentient knew all too well. Raven knew what the synthetic was speaking of…Julian was one of the lucky ones, he was merely the subject of research into Pisonics…other Turians had been selected to test biological, chemical and nanological weapons. Julian would live…the others…they would die horrible deaths.

"Wise or not, it is necessary Heka. The Turians showed themselves willing to annihilate millions because they were about to lose a battle. A species like that…a galactic alliance that condones that kind of aggression…" Doctor Raven said rhetorically. Heka knew exactly what she was referencing, he had access to the military reports and simulations about what kind of a struggle could result in…and the only result would be billions dead in an incredibly brutal war that would become little more than attempted genocide.

"This situation warrants these kinds of extreme measures?" Heka asked.

"Pragmatism Heka…simple pragmatism. Better we know what weapons will work than we let the Turians win this war. We have no idea what might happen next. The military is confident of holding our gains, and is eager to resume offensive operations…but as it stands, the outlook for victory is uncertain." Dr. Raven said grimly.

"Uncertain?" Heka asked.

"Yes…like all wars, nothing is certain Heka. From the first shot to the last, you can never be sure of what is going to occur." Doctor Raven said, looking away from the synthetic and shaking her head…her own thoughts drifting back over a century.

* * *

**Palaven, November 24****th**** 2157**

To say that Turian high command was nervous would be an understatement. An institution that stretched back thousands of years, it had weathered the changes in Turian culture, from the unification wars and Krogan Rebellions to the earning of their place as peacekeepers for the Citadel Council. Made up of the most experienced and high ranking commanders, it was normally an institution that was dignified and restrained. Turian High Command dealt with the possible threats to the Hierarchy and Council Space. It was a task that called for sober and rational planning…not emotion, not anger, and least of all fear.

"How _dare_ the council dictate to us like this!" Grand Admiral Orinki shouted in the conference room. Her voice was filled with rage both from the instructions that they had recived from the Hierarchy's political leadership, and anger over the fact that the Systems Alliance had destroyed or captured three Turian Dreadnoughts. It was a serious blow to the Navy…but whether the blow was more pointed to it's combat power or it's pride was up for debate. The Naval portion of High Command was livid over that, while the army was outraged over the failing of the Shanxi invasion and losing three separate systems to the Alliance.

"You've lost your dreadnoughts, fine, we've lost planets here Admiral, whole systems, those are of slightly greater concern!" Field Marshal Ceasus snapped back. Both of the commanders glared at each other, along with the other commanders seated around the long conference table. For the most part, the civilian representative was being ignored, even if he was the chief military advisor to the leadership. Senator Midantus was shocked by the panic that was sweeping High Command. The assembled leaders were horrified at the prospect of another galactic power seizing Turian Territory…and the Citadel Council deciding to negotiate rather than undertake a military campaign against them.

"Commanders, please, this animosity serves no purpose other than to divide us in the face of a threat." Midantus said cautiously from his seat at the head of the table. He held no illusions that the commanders here were not keen to take the input of what many of them deemed to be little more than a civilian, but he was in charge of them, even if they didn't relish the thought of it.

"Senator, we cannot sit back and let the Council dictate to us in this instance!" Grand Admiral Tiatus said earnestly. The youngest member of High Command, he was normally a hot-head when it came to matters of defense, but seeing three of the six dreadnoughts in his command neutralized, he was not as aggressive as he might have been.

"We can marshal our fleets within the month and strike with full force at Macedyn, every available ship formed into a striking armada. We can drive the invaders out of the system and hold the relay against assault. Then we're operating from a position of neutrality. The Council has to see that we are operating from weakness now." Grand Admiral Neraku said from her place at the far end of the conference table.

"Neraku is correct, we can mass or ships and strike hard now. The Army is more than able to provide the forces needed to retake Macedyn and the other conflicted systems. We have several conscription classes nearing full training and have multiple veteran legions that can be moved in for an invasion." Field Marshal Actus supplied.

"Yes, because your forces did so well on Shanxi." Grand Admiral Orinki said snidely, shaking her head.

"How dare you!" Field Marshal Ceasus shouted back, rising out of his seat and snarling across the conference table.

"I dare Marshal, because if the Army had succeeded at Shanxi we wouldn't be in this mess." Orinki replied coldly, not standing up. Ceasus glared at the Admiral for a long moment, seemingly torn between sitting down and hurling himself across the table at her. For a long moment, Senator Midantus wondered if the assembled commanders were going to turn into little more than a fist fight.

"Commanders! Now is not the time!" The Senator said over the din of multiple arguments, rising from where he sat to stand at his full height and look down at them. The arguments subsided slightly and then completely silenced as they looked up at Midantus, most of them glaring at the civilian who had the gall to interrupt them. Those who glared met his gaze one at a time, and Midantus could see rage and more than a little indignation in their returning looks. But all that was layered on fear. The veteran senator took a slow breath as silence finally came to the chamber, and the attention of the commanders was focused on one person.

"Commanders, the leadership of the Hierarchy has expressed it's desire to wage an aggressive campaign to retake our systems in the strongest and most forceful language possible. The Asari Republics and Salarian Union are in no doubt that the Hierarchy will retake these systems through any means. I hope that is clear to all of you, it will never be forgotten that this is Turian territory, nor will it be forgotten that it shall be reclaimed. Is that understood?" Midantus asked, looking at the commanders before him, they nodded together and gave a murmur of agreement, still watching him.

"Unfortunately, we cannot marshal the kinds of resources that your plans require. Our commitments to the Citadel necessitate that we keep the bulk of our forces deployed around potential hot-spots. We cannot pull much more out of the sectors of Council space to marshal against the Alliance. To do that means we would face dozens of brushfire conflicts and an explosion of piracy through out known space. The Council cannot afford that state of affairs. A halt to interstellar trade would devastate Citadel Civilization, and that's without the threat of the Terminus Systems striking against us." Midantus said heavily.

"So we're supposed to let Turian lives be sacrificed and our worlds be over run by an invading force to preserve _trade?_" Grand Admiral Neraku asked in stunned disbelief. None of the other commanders said anything, practically outraged at the thought. They weren't the kind of beings who worried about credits, they were soldiers, and that was something you didn't do unless you believed in something bigger than coin.

"It's more complicated than that, but at it's core, yes. Trade." Midantus said gravely.

"Let the damn Asari look after their own trading ventures! Macedyn is ours!" Field Marshal Ceasus said angrily. His voice was joined by others in the room, and the commanders were shouting in unison at the Senator who instead of trying to shout back held up his hands to call for quiet.

It was several minutes before things quieted enough for him to say anything at all.

"Our society exists entirely on trade. Our technology, our lifestyles, our own military power exist because of that trade. If our economy collapses we lose more than just credits. We lose our technology, worlds starve, workers are idle, soldiers receive no support. That is a basic tenet of warfare commanders, if you chose to neglect your lines of supply, you can be sure that your forces will whither on the vine." Midantus said coldly, his own memories of the lessons drilled into his mind during basic training coming back enough to give him a point that the assembled Turian military leadership could understand.

"If our worlds are isolated, it will be an exponentially large threat to our continued existence than if we had merely lost a trio of systems. If trade breaks down because the entire Turian Fleet is busy coping with one threat, what do you think will happen when the pirates descending on Council trade lanes go back to the Terminus systems and tell them that the biggest and most deadly force in the council is _busy?_ They'll invade every world they can find and we'll be forced to fight a campaign across a thousand systems to win back what we had firmly in our grasp because pride made us turn a threat into the ruin of our species!" Midantus continued, his voice turning from icy cold to red hot in a few words. The commanders blinked in surprise and a few of them nodded in agreement with the politician's words.

"The Citadel Council has agreed to send envoys to the Alliance Forces around Macedyn and negotiate with them for a peace treaty. It has been made clear to the Council that the Turian Hierarchy will accept no treaty or agreement that does not include the return of Macedyn and all territory taken by the Alliance. The Ambassador and Councilor Valern have stated that if the Council cannot regain our territory, then the Turian Hierarchy will consider their allegiance to the Council to be null…and we shall no longer recognize the sovereign power of the Council over the Hierarchy." Midantus said much more calmly than the words he'd uttered had any right allowing him. The Hierarchy had thrown down the glove to the Council, '_get back Macedyn, or we are _gone.' No Council species had ever made that kind of threat to the Council, and if anyone was going to say that…there wouldn't be a single being willing to place credits that the Turians would be the ones to do it. It was several long minutes before any of the commanders broke the silence. When it was finally broken, it was Grand Admiral Neraku who spoke.

"What are the leadership's orders?" She asked softly, her hands placed on the top of the conference table, her eyes looking at the stone surface.

"All forces will hold in place, no other military units will be diverted for any drive on Macedyn. Plans will be made for any and all possible contingencies, primarily on moving forces to Macedyn, either peacefully to resume control…or for an invasion. That will be all." Midantus said, ending his role in the meeting with much less fanfare than would have been expected.

* * *

**Salarian Special Tasks Group Meeting, Undisclosed Location, November 26****th**** 2157**

The room was small, close, and discrete. There were only four Salarians, but they were without a doubt the most important members of the Salarian military, the leaders of the Salarian STG. None of them met in person lest some clever intelligence agency realize just who these four beings were. In fact, the four barely know who the others really were, communicating by encrypted messages and codes, for each, they only knew two others…in fact, each of them believed that there were only _three_ leaders of the STG. But now, a situation had arisen where the four had to meet and discuss matters in detail. Although for the Salarians, there was the startling issue that they didn't really know who they were facing.

"What do we know?" The first said, his uniform pronounced him to be a military officer, a naval commander of one of the Salarian Fleets, but the name plate of his uniform was absent, only his decorations and ribbons were there. He'd been recruited into the STG early in his career, and served it behind the scenes for years, leading a double life, military commander on one hand, intelligence officer on the other.

"Very little." The second replied, his outfit was entirely civilian. A businessman, an entrepreneur, a self made Salarian whose wealth was comparable to that possessed by the Elcor or a particularly astute Matriarch. He funneled his own money into numerous ventures and corporations giving him an excellent reason to be in many places, and to know many things, the reason that the STG had recruited him.

"From what the Turians have released we believe that the Alliance is centered somewhere along our previous exploration tracts we sent out. Theoretically they were long term expeditions sent out in transports with sleeper capability. The mission was to locate Mass Relays. None were heard from again." The Third said, his own clothing proclaiming him to be a scientist or researcher. One of the most brilliant among the Salarian Scientific community, he was well versed in anything that the Union could create and had in development, and under the guise of 'friendly relations' knew almost as much about what the Turians and Asari had under research…and under the pretense of 'exploring the boundaries of science for universal peace and fellowship amongst scientists' he learned a great deal about what happened with everyone else.

"Interesting, very interesting. Is it possible that the Alliance located our expeditions?" The fourth asked, his own attire was religious in nature. While not a very large facet of Salarian society, 'the church' had been one of their societies' oldest intelligence organizations…perhaps the second oldest. This male had the resources of an intelligence agency that could compel assistance from beings in the name of a higher power.

"It is possible." Science replied.

"Is there any information about the Alliance military capacity?" Military asked.

"Given the known capabilities and specifications of Turian warships, combined with after action reports filed with Turian High command, we theorize that Alliance military craft utilize directed energy weapons that are useful at closer ranges than Mass accelerator weaponry. Engagements at Shanxi and Macedyn both show that the Alliance moved in rapidly before unleashing their heavy weapons." Science answered.

"They also show that the Alliance is willing to accept casualties to achieve a tactical and strategic goal." Religion replied.

"At great cost." Business interjected.

"Yes, at great cost, but the cost of victory can be less than the cost of defeat." Religion said pointedly.

"True." Military agreed.

"Are we in a position to combat the Alliance?" Science asked.

"No." Military answered without hesitation. All four of the leaders of the STG knew that there was no place at this table for bravado or manipulation of the truth. The Salarian Union required accurate information, and to manipulate it, to suit _any _end could spell the death of the Union, by combat, by coin, or by some other insidious means. They were the ones who gave the Union it's knowledge, of other technology, of other armies, of other markets. They had a duty to provide the best image they could manage of what lurked beyond…be it friend or foe.

"That is unfortunate." Religion said.

"Quite. If the Turian Hierarchy cannot match them, we would fare no better. Our military policy rests in Turian martial prowess being brought to bare on any threat." Business said.

"Exactly. We have no information on this threat beyond that which has been relayed by the Turians. I recommend we send scouting forays against Macedyn without Council knowledge, and if possible, to Shanxi itself." Military said.

"Unwise, the Alliance boasts cloaking and sensor technology that nullifies our stealth capabilities. They would be detected and destroyed, sacrificing equipment and crews needlessly." Science replied before any others could speak.

"We require more information on the Alliance." Military said, drumming his digits on the table top.

"We all agree on that, but we cannot sacrifice our soldiers needlessly." Religion said, his hand raised and making a placating gesture.

"I agree, sadly, that means we must wait to see what the Asari can manage." Business said.

"Unfortunate." Military replied with a nod.

"Agreed." Science said.

"Then we shall have to wait and see how Matriarch Seraya manages to compel the Alliance to make peace, before the Turians decide to wage a total war without the Council's permission." Religion said.

"Let us hope that Seraya is successful with returning Macedyn to the Hierarchy, otherwise the Council may only have two species." Business said grimly. The other three looked at him surprised.

"What do you mean?" Religion asked, breaking the surprised silence.

"The Turian leadership has made an ultimatum to the Council. Either they receive all their territory back, or they will withdrawal from the Council so they are not bound by the Council's decisions." Business said.

"That would tear apart Citadel Space." Military said.

"I'm well aware. Which means we must pray that the Matriarch is successful." Science said darkly.

"Pray as much as you like, but there is a reason that the Asari are so good at negotiation." Religion replied.

* * *

**Battleship SSV **_**Resolute**_**, Blockade force Macedyn Relay, November 27****th**** 2157**

The _Resolute_ had been bloodied taking the Relay in the opening stages of the invasion. The Main Meson cannon along the spine was non-functional after taking a smattering of 'lucky shots' from a Turian Dreadnought before the offending ship had been ripped apart by a volley of Antimatter warheads. After being bloodied in combat and giving out some damage of it's own, the _Resolute_ had been pulled back to support the blockade of the Relay while engineering teams worked to repair the main weapon of the massive warship. Although without it's main firepower, the _Resolute_ still boasted an extensive arsenal, and it wasn't going to be cycled back to Arcturus or any of the major shipyards to refit until reinforcements had been moved in. For now, _Resolute_ was the command vessel of the blockading force. Captain Smythers was not exactly enthusiastic over having his warship doing a duty that Cruisers and Frigates would have been better suited for. But he had his orders, and like any loyal officer, he would obey them. Though as he stood looking at the Local space holo in the Command Bridge, he wasn't sure how long he could take waiting. Invading Macedyn, relieving Shanxi, those had the strain of waiting, but you _knew_ something was going to happen before it was all over. Now…it was just waiting, and as the human Captain's eyes looked over the local space map, his eyes examined the smaller ships as they patrolled around the Mass Relay. Waiting for something that they didn't know would come.

"Captain, reading energy spikes in the Mass Relay that indicate a vessel is inbound." Sensors reported loudly. Smythers looked at the massive form of the Relay and his hands gripped the rail around the holo-projector tightly.

"No vessels scheduled to arrive sir." His comms officer reported.

"All vessels action stations, prepare for combat." Smythers ordered and the alarm chimes began to ring loudly across the _Resolute_. Smythers knew his crew was rushing to their stations, donning vac suits and manning their systems. Marines were drawing weapons and preparing for the possibility of ship-to-ship boarding actions. Smythers was confident in his crew, they'd comported themselves well in two major engagements, and they were about to distinguish themselves in a third.

"Inbound ship tracked, small, not matching any known ship types. Only one Captain." Sensors reported, and the main view screen showed the rapid track of a craft decelerating from FTL around the Mass Relay and dropping into 'real space'. It was a small craft, with sleek lines and an elegant exterior. It was manta-ray shaped, almost like it had been designed to travel underwater, not through vacuum. Smythers watched the craft move away from the relay.

"Weapons locked Captain. Meson gun still non-operative." Weapons reported before the Captain could ask. Instead, the veteran commander nodded in approval.

"I think we can take him weaps." Captain Smythers said with a chuckle. He received several nods in return, the ship was barely fifty meters long, a Corvette would dwarf the thing…

"No weapons powering up captain, or shields." Sensors reported.

"Captain, the ship is opening a channel to us." Communications relayed. Smythers looked at the bridge officer and nodded in approval, there was no sense vaporizing a ship that had just appeared.

"This is Captain Smythers of the Systems Alliance Battleship _Resolute_. You are entering restricted space under military jurisdiction. Identify yourself or your ship will be boarded and taken as spoils of war." Smythers said. The last bit sounded almost piratical, but there wasn't going to be any disputing that the Alliance meant business. The main screen lit up and on it appeared the face of a woman…a gorgeous woman…who was blue. Smythers blinked hard, but kept his composure, his eyes examining the image and realizing that this wasn't a human. There was no hair, only a kind of tendrils coming from the back of her head. But the resemblance to a human being was remarkable.

"I am Matriarch Seraya, and I come under a flag of peace." The female said calmly over the com, no doubt well aware of the large number of weapons that were locked on her craft. Smythers narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at the female for a moment.

"Do you represent the Turian Hierarchy Matriarch?" Smythers asked.

"No, captain, I represent the Citadel Council and wish to broker a peace to end the senseless warfare. If it is possible, I wish to speak to a commander capable of negotiating a peace accord." Seraya said, her voice just as calm and steady as before. Smythers nodded slightly.

"Very well Matriarch, your ship will deactivate it's drives and will be boarded by an Alliance Corvette. They will then escort your vessel to meet with Fleet Admiral Yarazh who can discuss the matters with you and decide if anything of value is to be gained by negotiation." Captain Smythers said, and nodded slightly, an exceptionally generous gesture considering the circumstance. But Smythers was no fool, this was an envoy from a foreign power who was aiming to negotiate a peace. The Captain wondered idly just what would come of it.

"Open a com line to Fleet Admiral Yarazh." Smythers instructed as the line to the Matriarch was cut. The comms officer obeyed quickly, and the elegant and gorgeous face of the female was replaced by the wolfish visage of the Vargr Fleet Admiral. Smythers resisted the urge to flinch…he much preferred the other alien.

"What seems to be the issue Captain?" Yarazh asked with a growl. He was not the kind of commander who dallied about.

"Admiral, we've just received a craft claiming to represent the Citadel Council and they wish to negotiate with us. I instructed them that they would be boarded by a Corvette and then escorted to meet with you in person if that is acceptable Admiral?" Smythers asked professionally, and was rewarded with surprise and silence from the Vargr commander. It lasted for a heartbeat before he nodded, rubbing his muzzle idly.

"That's…quite something Captain Smythers, quite something. Well, we had to expect something would get them talking, I guess we had to grab a few star systems before they decided to chat." Yarazh said. Smythers nodded grimly. Seizing those systems had cost a lot of lives, but if it had really pushed the Turians to start talking, it would have been worth it. He said nothing as Yarazh nodded one final time and cut the communication. The Captain looked at the display of the Council ship being boarded by a Corvette, the marines aboard sweeping the ship. Smythers watched the vessel for a long time before the marine squad aboard cleared the ship and let them through. They were Asari apparently, one of the members of the Citadel Council, and they were here to negotiate. Like any information, it spread through the bridge and through the ships like wildfire. No one knew just what to do. But Captain Smythers stood there watching the Asari vessel leap towards Macedyn with a Corvette in close attendance.

* * *

**Asari Vessel **_**Far Dream**_**, Orbit over Macedyn, November 27****th**** 2157**

"Those…those were humans?" Ilasa asked, her eyes wide. The young Matron pilot was no stranger to conflict, she was a long serving commando and had seen much death and destruction in her centuries. Even though she was one of Matriarch Seraya's personal bodyguards, that hadn't kept her from seeing more than one firefight since she'd accepted the position. She glanced over her shoulder, the almost Maidenly feeling of awe at seeing the human warriors move through the _Far Dream_ searching quickly and thoroughly wearing massive power armor, but carrying surprisingly small weapons. It hadn't taken long, the Asari vessel was mainly for shot hops through Mass Relays, not long journeys. From her place in the cockpit, Ilasa had seen everything. She shook her head and then glanced over at her co-pilot, Helsi shook her head slowly, focusing on the controls. Helsi knew that Ilasa was young for her duties, but the commando had been hand picked…so Helsi was willing to let a few things go…

"I don't know what those were Ilasa, there was more than one species there. Did you see the body types? At least two. I don't know what those were, but they weren't all humans, if any of them were." Helsi said, her hand drifting down and checking the sidearm that had been removed by the human marines…strange word for a soldier…marine…She shook her head, not liking the idea of being unarmed, even if it didn't mean that she was without any recourse in combat. Her Biotics meant she could snap any of those power armored warriors in half…but still…they had a lethal bearing that she had only seen in veteran commandos. She shivered at the thought.

"Calm yourself Helsi, and you Ilasa, the Alliance is allowing us to proceed with our mission to negotiate. They will not kill us." Matriarch Seraya said calmly behind them. The two commandos looked back and nodded, glad that their matriarch wasn't affected by the appearance of the human combat troops. Seraya had seem far more dangerous threats in her lifetime than anything that the humans could throw at her, and the elder Matriarch wasn't going to let anything get in the way of her mission. She looked out the front viewport as the _Far Dream_ left FTL and dropped into the Macedyn system with a human vessel in attendance. More were waiting, several of the same size as their escort, others that were larger. The three Asari knew that if the humans, or rather, the Alliance wished to annihilate them, it would be a paltry matter to do. But the three were calm, they knew that they were on a mission of peace, and these…barbarians would not violate that.

"Look…those craft…they're huge…." Ilasa said, her hands hitting a few keys and bringing up a view of a pair of massive ships, she glanced at the scale twice before she accepted what her eyes were telling her.

"Yeah…I know." Helsi said.

"They're half the size of the _Destiny Ascension_." Ilasa said, awed by the sight.

"I know." Helsi continued, her eyes looking out at the rest of the fleet, the 'smaller' large craft that were bigger than Turian dreadnoughts, the numerous vessels that were the same size as any Asari or Salarian dreadnought…the numerous support craft, the thousands of fighters.

"This fleet…it's immense…" Ilasa continued, awestruck, her hands piloting the _Far Dream_ on reflex. Behind them, Matriarch Seraya said nothing. Silently watching the reactions of her bodyguards. The elder Asari had been briefed in on everything that the Turians knew, so the sight of this Alliance Armada was no shock to her, but to know of something and to _see it_ were greatly different things. Just like _knowing_ that the Turians had been hurled from four different star systems by this force, was a far different thing than _experiencing_ it. Seeing all this force, seeing the craft, Seraya was more than willing to grant the Turians a measure of leniency in their inability to deal with the trouble they had stirred up.

"_I know._" Helsi replied once again, focusing on her screens, resisting the urge to tell the young Matron to get control of herself.

"Asari vessel, proceed to the landing beacon. Any deviation will be met with force." A voice came across the comm, and Ilasa looked down, surprised at the creature appearing on the vid feed. It was greenish brown, with a pair of sensory organs mounted in a hood.

"Confirmed…" She said, mustering her calm to sound non-pulsed by the blockading fleet that surrounded Macedyn. The Commando flicked off the comm and followed the beacon to one of the massive craft surrounded by it's own escorting force. The _Far Dream _passed through the fleet and maneuvered towards the large hangar that was indicated as their own escort group dispersed and returned to their own duties. Ilasa checked the sensors and made sure that the Alliance was ready for them to land, and guided the craft through the screening shield to the large hangar, going from vacuum to atmosphere with a slight shudder. Ilasa slowly lowered the craft to a highlighted cross on the hangar floor, landing with a soft thump that reverberated through the vessel.

"An exceptional landing as always Ilasa." Matriarch Seraya said with a smile and a soft touch to the commando's shoulder. Ilasa looked back and smiled as Helsi and the Matriarch moved into the communal area of the small craft. All three were attired for the meeting, Ilasa and Helsi wearing their own combat armor, though now devoid of weapons…and Matriarch Seraya wearing a flowing gown that she ware with a regal bearing which seemed almost casual. The bright red of the attire complementing the blue of her skin. She shook herself slightly and smiled to the two commandos.

"Now we shall see if I can con them as well as a member of the Citadel." The Matriarch said. Both the younger commandos blinked and then laughed. The surprising joke cutting through the tension of walking into a den of unknown aliens to broker a peace in a war that the Turians had started. When that happened, you couldn't afford to be tense, you couldn't afford to be nervous…and Matriarch Seraya knew that. The two younger women chuckled and nodded, finally falling into place on either side of their charge, ready for whatever faced them at the end of the airlock. Seraya touched the control and the door opened with a hiss, the subtle difference in the air between the Alliance hangar and the Asari craft palpable. Involuntarily, the three sniffed at it, knowing that the scent of a military craft was no indicator to a species, but the unusual new smell enough to make them curious.

In unison, the trio walked down the ramp and were greeted by a terrific sight. What looked like hundreds of beings were standing in parade ground precision, flanking a long straight path to several more beings waiting at attention. The trained eyes swept across the ranks of soldiers and sailors, and all three realized at the same time there were four different alien species represented. All of them equally dispersed, no groups that bunched up according to species, no clots of one type separated away from another, there was none of that. _That_ was what shocked Matriarch Seraya the most. Even in Citadel Space, even after Centuries, in groups, species congregated together. It was habit, it was some ancient memory, staying close to the herd. But in the Alliance, there was no separation, nothing along the lines of species at least.

Before Seraya and her bodyguards could think much, a whistle pierced the air and a being close to the edge of the ramp wearing the marine armor without a helmet…one of the beings that looked like an Asari but with pale skin and no head tendrils called out loud enough to be heard across the entire hangar.

"_Attention on the deck!"_

In unison, the beings saluted and stood at attention. Seraya was surprised by the show of respect and what had to be an honor by the Alliance, but she didn't let that show on her features. Instead, she accepted it as though it were her due and walked down the ramp. She walked down the clear path towards what had to be the Alliance commanders and wondered for a moment if this wasn't a gesture of respect, but instead was a gesture to intimidate. With a slight smile, she knew that any savvy opponent would make it both…and as quickly as the smile appeared, it vanished. That kind of cunning was something quite rare in Citadel space. The Salarians were smart enough to do that kind of thing, but they'd been around the Asari for millennia. Seraya let the smile vanish as she approached the Alliance Commanders, one of them, small and stocky had the most elaborate uniform and had to be the overall commander.

"I greet you in the name of the Citadel Council. I am Matriarch Seraya and I bring a hope for peace and resolution of this conflict." Seraya said with a bow to the commander. The short being bowed his head in respect, it was short, powerfully built, it looked like a predator, still keeping it's muzzle of sharp teeth and short fur and bushy tail. Something said this being would be a dangerous opponent in a fight.

"I greet you in the name of the Systems Alliance, I am Fleet Admiral Yarazh, commander of this combat theater." He said with a growl.

"I am Admiral Zhav, commander of this fleet." A tall creature with tendrils for forearms and hands and a strange eye hood rather than a face offered, towering over the Asari.

"I greet both of you. I wish for there to be peace once more between the Citadel and the Systems Alliance. There is no need for war Commanders. This situation comes from misunderstanding and mistakes, the Turian Hierarchy has seen the errors of it's ways, and we in the Citadel wish for peace." Seraya said.

"They've seen the errors of their ways huh? Right…well, in the interests of peace I can grant a ceasefire along this front, but I don't have the authority to authorize any kind of terms. For that, you will have to speak to the State Department and the appropriate civil representatives. I'm a soldier Matriarch, and the civilians decided to wage a war against the Turians. But we didn't start the war, the Turians did." Yarazh said.

"The Council is well aware of that commander, and we will work to ensure a fair peace for both of you. War serves no purpose, only the deaths of many." Seraya said. Yarazh blinked and shook his head slightly.

"Yes…a great many. Though we shall see how impartial you are after you find out just what the Turian Hierarchy has done." Yarazh replied.

"What do you mean Commander?"

"That's not for me to say Matriarch, that's for you to discuss with my superiors at Arcturus."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Still going strong folks, glad to see such positive response to the story.**

**A moment of…hmm…discourse? Well, more like me just talking a little about my thoughts on the Story. IF you wish to read, feel free, if not, skip past the bolded A/N.**

**So, over the past few weeks, I've been thinking on my Systems Alliance. Of course, one can expect, some of the things I've given them are rather over powered, and throwing in three other alien species that they've made peaceful contact with has had an effect on them. I had been thinking that I had made the Systems Alliance too strong, too powerful. Or more specifically, Humans. Of course, the Vegans provide technical abilities, the Vargr military strength and the Aslan an exploratory wanderlust…but at it's heart, I was beginning to think that I had made humanity too strong. I'm the first to admit that I can build rather uber characters. Looking at my Far Flung Hope series, I admit it full well. But I set out to portray humanity as normal…and when I set my humans against the Humans in ME…they're overwhelmingly stronger.**

**But then I began to think long and hard on it. I realized I wasn't making my humans overly strong, but the humans in Mass Effect were so much weaker than they should be. Technologically, militarily, culturally, politically, they're all so much weaker than they should.**

**Technology, folks, have any of you ever looked at the 'Experimental Technology' page in the Wikipedia? Or heard about some of the other technologies that are in research now? At the start of the 21st**** century, we are researching invisibility, teleportation, Fusion power, and man-portable directed energy weapons, we have prototypes of all these technologies, right now. Nanotechnology, genetic engineering, molecular computing, a host of other advanced technologies are under development. Perhaps not working to the degree we see in movies, but on micro scale levels, but they are there, without a doubt. Right now, FTL travel is something that NASA scientists regard as possible within the next century. In Mass Effect, human technology seems to simply be cloned versions of everything that the Citadel Council has. Human tech is the same as Citadel Tech, no variation, no changes, nothing is really different other than esthetics. In two thousand years humanity went from Ancient Rome and China, to space travel. The Citadel Council remained static.**

**Militarily, two thousand years ago, the best soldier in the world was a Roman Legionary, wearing iron segmented armor, carrying a shield, short sword and two throwing spears. He marched into battle wearing sandals, was supported by light Calvary armed with spears, and had archers for fire support. Today, the average soldier, wears composite ceramic body armor, is armed with a selective fire rifle, grenades and a variety of support weapons in his squad, including anti-tank weapons. He's supported by fighter bombers, heavy armor capable of moving at upwards of 70 mph across the battlefield, attack helicopters and rides into battle in an APC. He has communications that can link him to any other point on the planet, satellite reconnaissance and other forms of intel that are provided to him instantly. The Citadel Council has maintained the same military doctrine, equipment and strategy for the past two millennia. Even Naval doctrine, drawing on the mass experiences of World War one and World War two, we see that the Systems Alliance barely came up with the concept of using carriers, instead for the most part they duplicate the Citadel Council's doctrine of using dreadnoughts. At that rate it feels like the Alliance should be using bolt action rifles and mass wave assaults, not maneuver warfare.**

**But this is just my grousing and nitpicking. I could go on and on second guessing the decisions made by Bioware who manage to do more right than wrong with their games. Mass Effect is a lovely universe to play in, I adore the games and the characters…it's just the Systems Alliance is so…weak. Humanity just deserves better in the grand scheme of things by my reckoning.**

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* * *

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**GNN Broadcast, November 28****th**** 2157**

"In a stunning revelation today, Arcturus has announced that the Citadel Council, the supervisory government of the Turian Hierarchy has sent an emissary to undertake peace negotiations with the Systems Alliance. The news was relayed in a press conference given by President Trindle. The President stated that for the time being, Alliance forces in the Macedyn Theater of War would be holding in place in agreement with Fleet Admiral Yarazh. Despite expressing hope for peace, the President made it clear that the Alliance made no promises as to resolution of this conflict without severe concessions from the Council. When asked further, President Trindle refused to elaborate on the matters, merely saying that 'the State Department has it's instructions and I will not undermine their position by telling the other side what we want'."

"Confidential sources in the State Department have been as tight lipped as the President, refusing to elaborate. Although one source was willing to state that the State Department would reach a settlement that resulted in the safety and security of the Systems Alliance, or their would be none at all. Sources from High Command have informed us that an undisclosed number of military units have continued to be moved into the Shanxi System along with Naval forces. Although no exact strengths have been relayed, it is safe to say that while there might be peace along the Macedyn front for now, the Alliance is ready for a long war."

* * *

**Quarian Migrant Fleet, November 28****th**** 2157**

Captain Shala'Raan vas Tonbay looked at the grainy hologram image along with the other officers. The Admiralty board had expanded it's normal gathering, including commanders from several prominent vessels in the Fleet, including the life ships and combat spacecraft. The briefing chamber was filled with Captains and Admirals, all of them taking notes on their Omni-tools and reviewing the key points that had been made from the holo. Very few of them knew where the information had come from, but all of them were extremely interested in what it showed. The location was not provided, but for Quarians, what planet the battle was around didn't much matter, hadn't much mattered since Rannoch…space was their home…and a new alien armada appearing in it…

…one that had so thoroughly decimated the Turians…

The image was a still capture from a holo recording that had been barely twenty minutes long. It had centered on a Mass Relay being guarded by a large Turian Fleet complete with Dreadnoughts and Cruisers. They were arrayed in a the standard 'half orb' defensive position around the relay, distanced enough that they could engage any force that jumped through with their Mass Accelerator weapons before fighters and Frigates could engage the assaulting force at close range. In the still shots the vessels were labeled by class, along with information provided on command structure, technical aspects and battle history of each of the Turian vessels. Though the Citadel wasn't fully aware of it, Quarian military Intelligence took a _very _close interest in the command and control structure of opposing fleets in addition to their military capabilities. Included in the briefing was a breakdown of numbers and effective combat power. Truth be told, the assembled Turian force was the largest that the Quarians had seen since the Krogan Rebellions, possibly half the combat power of the assembled Migrant Fleet.

The holo didn't spend much time just gazing at Turian vessels though, less than ten seconds into the clip, the first alien craft moved through the Relay. The ships were large, but the information given on them was sparse, size and maneuver capabilities put them in the range of Frigates and Cruisers, while some based on size had to be Dreadnoughts. The Turians engaged the alien craft with Mass Accelerators, laying down a withering barrage that was far outside the acceptable safety margins of Turian weapons. The withering fire tore through the vanguard of the alien fleet, ripping apart the Frigate and Cruiser scale vessels as they accelerated into the teeth of the Turian barrage. Captain Shala'Raan knew that such a strategy had to be suicide, the aliens were being torn apart…but on the heels of the vanguard more vessels leapt through the relay. These craft were almost all Dreadnought in size…and larger…several seemed to be half as large as the Destiny Ascension, the gargantuan Asari Dreadnought that the Citadel Council used…

With the second force, the actual maneuver phase began in earnest. The largest vessels seemed to engage the Turian defenders with what the analyst who'd provided the information on the holo stills had hypothesized were directed energy weapons of immense damage potential. The initial force and smaller alien craft accelerated into the Turian line, even as nuclear explosions erupted against the advancing second vanguard…the Turians had been wiling to throw everything they had against the aliens. But it wasn't enough…the smaller craft were heavily armed as well, and at close range immune to the heavy Mass Accelerators on the Turian ships because of the maneuverability that they had. Explosions ripped through the Turian fleet, the Dreadnoughts and Cruisers in the firing line beginning to maneuver out of their formation to engage the closer targets, the Frigates and fighters trying to divert the lighter alien ship's fire. In moments, the disciplined Turian formation had been ripped apart into a swirling melee of ship against ship battles. Even as this melee ground through, more and more alien ships leapt through the Relay, but none of these appeared to be joining the fight. Instead they were moving to FTL immediately, headed for other targets.

So far, none of the Captains or Admirals had commented on the footage, or their briefing files. All of them were too shocked at the information. For a Quarian, the principle threats in the galaxy were the Geth, followed by raiders, and behind them was the Citadel Council. No Quarian would ever forget being abandoned in their hour of most dire need by the supposedly benevolent council. The Turians, Asari and Salarians were not considered to be friends by any commander in the Migrant Fleet. But to see one of them…perhaps the strongest of them get swept aside in a bloody showdown against an unknown alien invasion force…it was sobering…

…and as much of a threat as a suit breach.

"Is this information accurate?" Captain Shala'Raan asked aloud, breaking the silence. In the briefing auditorium, the enviro-suit faceplates of every other Quarian turned and looked at her, fighting the urge to flinch at the sudden attention, she remained sitting upright, glad that it was Admiral Rael'zorah giving the briefing.

"To the best of our knowledge Captain. It was gathered by a Marine patrol ship scouting the Macedyn Relay for possible use at a later time. They happened to be in the right place at the right time to catch it all." Rael replied in the briefing hall.

"Good luck for us, the Turians would never let this kind of information out." Another Captain said aloud and several heads nodded. The Turians were nothing if not proud of their military might, and they wouldn't want a devastating defeat like this being made general knowledge. The fact that the Migrant Fleet had gotten this kind of information so quickly was an unexpected windfall, even if the information gained was not pleasant.

"That is correct Captain, this briefing is to make you all aware of the gravity of the situation. Should this force move beyond the Macedyn System, it is…unlikely, that the Turians would be able to contain it. In that event, the Migrant Fleet will have to avoid any possible sectors that it is operating in. Patrols and reconnaissance expeditions will have to be dramatically increased as well." Rael said, the weight of the Admiralty board behind his words. The Conclave had significant say in the government of the Flotilla, but with something like this, ship captains were more than willing to accept the advice of the military. Life in the galaxy was hard for a Quarian, there was never any question of that…but the existence of this kind of military force waging a war against the Turian Hierarchy, and by extension the entire Citadel Council, the Migrant Fleet had suddenly gained a new and very dangerous threat to it's existence. As the briefing broke into many smaller conversations, most of it going over the limited information on the briefing documents, others expressing shock at the Turian defeat. Shala stood and moved down the aisle, walking up to Rael and nodding to him, sharing a private word.

"Rael, what are they?" She asked quietly, looking at the holo image of the alien craft.

"We don't know Shala, the Admiralty Board is without a doubt concerned over this…very concerned. We don't know why they invaded Macedyn, we don't know where they came from. But they certainly don't like the Turians." Rael said, flipping a few holo images and looking at several of the frozen images, alien ships tearing apart Turian craft with what seemed to be no quarter.

"Could the Turians have provoked them? They're not exactly the most diplomatic." Shala said, it was well known that the Turians had a slightly bullying nature when it came to others, martial discipline and civic duty were one thing, but they had a decidedly xenophobic bent when it came to other races, especially those they could subjugate. Only the Batarians were more aggressive against other races, but the Turians had a patina of legitimacy because of their position on the Citadel Council and as the galaxy's peacekeepers.

"It's a possibility Shala, I know that Turian patrols have been extremely aggressive against the Migrant Fleet whenever we've come into contact with them. I hesitate to think what they might have done to these aliens. I can name at least two Turian Colonies that belong to other species who were 'aggressive'." Rael said darkly and Shala could only nod for a moment, looking at the shape of the Turian Dreadnought _Gothis_ being ripped apart by internal explosions. Both of the commanders winced at the image.

"I hope they only hate Turians." Shala said quietly.

"So do I Shala, so do I." Rael replied.

* * *

**Arcturus Station, November 28****th**** 2157**

Ambassador Kar Jiv-nar smoothed the seam of her elegant dress and shook herself slightly. The tall, lithe Aslan Diplomat had been seen to by her assistants and full fledged makeup artists and tailors prior to this meeting. Her black and white striped fur was immaculate and styled to perfection. Her Chinese style dress was perfect, draped across her body and formed to her with the perfection one would expect on a Hollywood starlet being seen on the red carpet, the rich green silk and gold inlay on it was perfect. Her sharp green eyes closed for the moment as she thought over one piece of information from the briefing reader in her paw before she looked back to the holo display. Ambassador Jiv-nar was an extremely striking female by Aslan standards, and to a lesser degree Vargr and Humans…not so much to Vegans…but physical appearances didn't matter much for them. All in all, the Ambassador looked like every credit of the several hundred thousand spent on the outfit and elaborate styling that she had been put through for most of a day. It wasn't something that the government advertised, but it was a very important part of statecraft. Ambassador Jiv-nar was the first official Systems Alliance Ambassador to meet with Matriarch Sereya, and for such a meeting, one had to present a perfect picture. Dressed in simple but elegant attire, perfectly turned out, every inch of her six foot five frame seen too, and every single motion in the entire diplomatic undertaking planned with perfection towards putting the Council Ambassador into the precise mindset that the Alliance wished. For Aslan it was an art-form, just like with human ambassadors. Humans had been carrying out diplomacy on the level of nation states for thousands of years. Aslan functions were on a smaller more personal level, which meant that Aslan diplomats had to make a mental leap when it came to scale, but otherwise…Aslan females made up a surprisingly large portion of the State Department's Foreign Service Officers.

Ambassador Jiv-nar was the most senior and skilled of the State Department's ambassadors, which was why she had been hastily transferred from the negotiations and meetings with the Xenopus species' leadership and hustled back to Arcturus. A lower level, but still, female Aslan was discussing matters, very skillfully dodging the concerns and distress that the Amphibian species' leadership felt when they discovered they'd been put on hold. But when you were negotiating with a major galactic power, sometimes, you had to make someone come in second. Now was one of those times.

"Ambassador, the Matriarch's shuttle will be arriving momentarily." Came the soft word from her aide. She turned and nodded to the human with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you Stephen, are all the preparations made?" Jiv-nar asked unnecessarily.

"Of course Ambassador, shall we?" Stephen said, with a smile, he wasn't nearly as well turned out as ambassador Jiv-nar, he had been busy coordinating the entire 'circus' that had been undertaken to make the arrival at Arcturus station sufficiently imposing and dramatic for the Asari. Even if there were only three of them, Jiv-nar was quite certain that they would be memorizing everything that they saw…and the Alliance was making sure that they had a lot to memorize. Jiv-nar set down her reader and turned, walking out of the changing room with such grace that she seemed to float along. She made her way through the passages that had been polished with precision that was beyond anything that the most demanding Marine Basic instructor would want to see from his cadets, and turned into the hangar bay.

It was much smaller than the bay on the SSV _Leonidas_ that had received the Asari Matriarch and her aides, a more intimate setting for this was preferred. Jiv-nar took her place at the end of a long plush red carpet, standing at the end and shifting her poise to take in all the effect of a regal bearing. Jiv-nar tilted her head back slightly so she would be looking down at the Asari, calculating her poise so that from the very second it would be clear to the Council representatives just where they stood. She looked at the honor guard arrayed behind and beside her, all of them soldiers, and every one members of the honor guard detachments billeted at Arcturus for state functions. A squad of Marines stood in their vivid dress maroon uniforms complete with kilts, polished boots, berets, campaign and decorations, even a piper...each one at attention to her right. A squad of Army Light Infantryman stood to her left, their dark green dress uniforms a contrast to the vivid impression left by the marines, their pants bloused in mirror finished boots, unit patches on their shoulders proclaiming them to be the toughest troopers the army possessed, their berets black, and their chests boasting decorations to rival their marine opposites. Behind Jiv-nar to her left was the Navy their deep blue uniforms turned out with precision, the bright white attire of formal dress uniforms assuaged for this presentation, but unlike the Army or Marines, this honor guard was made up of high officers. To the right of Jiv-nar was the Aerospace forces, they wore black dress uniforms cut along severe lines, but despite the sharp and imposing figures that these uniforms made, you could sense that these pilots were daredevils, beings that took risks and loved them…even if their uniforms were black and the lines of them sharp, these were beings who were more at home in the cockpit of a craft than standing for a formal meeting.

Jiv-nar knew that the display was small compared to the one given by Fleet Admiral Jarazh, but this was to be more intimate, and as she looked out the mag-sealed hangar at the approaching form of the shuttle, she knew that this had been crafted perfectly. A small display, a subtle one, and one that would reinforce the lesson given by the Fleet Admiral. Jiv-nar took a deep breath as the Alliance Shuttle glided in, it's pilot positioning the craft at the end of the carpet, the exit ramp that descended from the side of shuttle rested perfectly at the end of the carpet. As Jiv-nar took a breath she saw the form of the Asari Matriarch walking down the ramp, flanked by her aides/bodyguards. Jiv-nar had seen the images of the Matriarch that had been forwarded, and she had read everything she could about the Asari from the briefing materials. The appearance of the aliens was not as shocking as it could have been. They were humanoid after all, and they looked a lot like humans in form and face…there was a big difference between humanoid and human looking. Humanoid meant two arms, two legs, and a head around a torso. Human looking? If it wasn't for the skin color and the tendrils…they could have been human. The face…that was what made Jiv-nar look twice and pause, it was for all intents and purposes a human's face. Jiv-nar forced herself not to stare, but merely watched, marinating an aloof pose through sheer force of will while the soldiers surrounding her did so through military discipline.

"I greet you in the name of the Citadel Council, Ambassador. I am Matriarch Seraya." The Matriarch said and bowed. The two Asari flanking her bowed along with her, all of them very professional in their motions, but Jiv-nar could sense the dangerous movements in each of them. She didn't doubt that they were dangerous beings, and the Aslan ambassador was certain that was the same consensus was going through the heads of the soldiers surrounding her. Jiv-nar blinked and realized that the Matriarch had made her own subtle move in the ballet between them. Jiv-nar was surrounded by soldiers, the Matriarch had only two, and the Asari was not concerned in the slightest by the disparity of forces. It bespoke calm, confidence, or disinterest…

"I greet you in the name of the Systems Alliance, Matriarch. I am Ambassador Jiv-nar. I am glad that you have come to greet us on a mission of peace. The people of the Systems Alliance have great hopes that this terrible conflict can be resolved." Jiv-nar said with a bow of her own.

"It is good to hear Ambassador, it is a tragedy that our peoples had to meet under such terrible circumstances." Matriarch Seraya said with a frown on her features…those all too human features… Jiv-nar nodded and extended her paw, touching the outstretched hand of the Matriarch in a universal gesture of greeting. The Asari looked at the gesture and took the Aslan paw tentatively. Jiv-nar smiled in her mind, chocking up the slight shift in control of the situation as a win for her. At the moment, the ambassadors were both feeling each other out…but even when scouting one another, they knew that subtle battles were being fought against each other. As Jiv-nar released the Matriarch's hand and gestured for them to walk along. The honor guard of soldiers moved and formed up in ranks, but didn't follow as the Alliance Ambassador led the Citadel representative from the hangar.

"A tragedy on so many levels, so many lives have been lost in this conflict. It is…something that the Alliance has not known for a very long time." Jiv-nar said sadly, crafting the subtle jab with care.

"Never? Then your Systems Alliance has been very gifted in many ways." Matriarch Seraya said darkly.

"How so Matriarch?" Jiv-nar asked cautiously, she sensed that there was something waiting there.

"The Citadel has not always enjoyed peaceful relationships when we have made contact with others. We have faced a great deal of danger throughout our time among the stars. More than once great threats have risen up against us and we have had to do what is necessary to counter them." Seraya said grimly, her eyes drifting to the stunning view of Arcturus out a massive set of viewports. Jiv-nar nodded, well aware of what 'necessary' meant to the Citadel, she had read the briefing documents on the conflict at Shanxi. The Turians had attempted to eradicate the entire Capital of Shanxi before they were completely overwhelmed. She forced herself not to react to the comment from the Asari. Jiv-nar let the comment drift away, better to let the Matriarch's thoughts drift elsewhere.

"Are you impressed with our Capital, Matriarch?" Jiv-nar asked, slowing to let the Asari gaze out the armor glass viewport, like everything else in this diplomatic meeting, the 'chance passing' by the spectacular view of Arcturus' gas giant and the glowing orb of Arcturus itself in the distance. In contrast to the muted reds and orange glows of the gas giant and system's star, small blue and white flashing lights of the He3 mining operations and navigational beacons above the giant. Jiv-nar couldn't read the expression on Seraya's face, but she watched the Matriarch's eyes gazing out at the system, looking from the orbital tracts above the gas giant Themis. The Mass Relays that made such a desolate system important to the Alliance weren't visible from this distance, but Jiv-nar knew they were there.

"It is an impressive construction Ambassador. I am surprised at the industry of your Alliance. Perhaps you could see the Citadel some day, the seat of the Council is something the entire galaxy is in awe of." Seraya said, and Jiv-nar smiled at the last comment, and smoothly replied.

"Yes, the Protheans left many impressive legacies in the galaxy. If their Mass Relays are any indication, their Citadel must be breathtaking." The Aslan said, looking to the Matriarch as they left the viewport behind. Once again, the female made no response to the subtle jab. For a long moment, Jiv-nar wondered if the Asari was simply not noticing the jab and slight provocations that she was using. Without hesitation, she dismissed the thought…thinking _that_ was a mistake, a dangerous one. Just because she was talking civilly and trading small jabs with her didn't mean that this Asari wasn't an opponent. Just because Jiv-nar didn't carry a weapon didn't mean that she shouldn't view Seraya as an adversary. Far from it, the battle she was fighting here was much more deadly than any theater of combat. It was one on one, being to being, and the outcome of this would affect the lives of billions of citizens of the Alliance, she had to win this battle, no matter what the cost.

"It is, Ambassador Jiv-nar. Millions of beings living in the wards, the seat of power for the galaxy, truly an inspiring sight." Seraya said.

"But no the entire galaxy, simply the one percent that you have surveyed of course. Not to mention the systems that refuse to accept your authority…or those you've cast out." Jiv-nar said, the subtle challenges gone in favor of a more pointed observation. Seraya looked over at the Aslan diplomat and blinked. She had been prepared for such blunt responses.

"That is…true, Ambassador. There are many who have failed to see the positive benefits that come from working with the council. The Terminus systems are a lawless wilderness, filled with war and conflict. Other species who have been…excluded from positive relations with the Council have had their embassies revoked for practical reasons." Seraya said, looking to the Aslan.

"Practical reasons Matriarch? That is a very timid way of putting it. I don't think that the Krogan or the Quarians did anything so deserving their exile as you might believe." Jiv-nar said, placing the first card she had to play on the table. The Alliance had studied Council history in great detail, from the first bits and pieces that had been learned from the Salarian spies to the information extracted from Turian computer systems, they'd learned much about the Citadel. More than the Council would have liked.

"Such as it is, both of those species proved a significant threat to the peace and stability of the galaxy." Seraya replied.

"Well, that is a discussion for another time and place Matriarch. For the moment we are trying to negotiate an end to a war before it spirals beyond control. Hopefully before we prove to be a threat to the peace and stability of the galaxy." Jiv-nar said pointedly as the pair reached the small conference room that had been tasked for the negotiation. Relatively unadorned and simple, the room was split by a single table, with a chair on each side, other seats set along the walls for the aides to sit. But that was it. Jiv-nar gestured for Seraya to sit and the Asari did so. Both of the Matriarch's bodyguards took seats, their eyes watching their Alliance opposites, Jiv-nar's Vegan aide Tat-zi-makla caught more than one long glance, whether it was because she looked dangerous or because she just looked so alien…

"So Ambassador, let us get into the point of this affair. Shanxi, Macedyn, and the war between the Alliance and the Citadel." Jiv-nar said and Seraya nodded.

"With the misunderstanding that occurred to start this war, the Council is willing to accept a return to the status quo. Return of Macedyn to Turian control, setting up a demarcation line and demilitarized zone at Shanxi an-" Seraya began, clearly reciting a long list of terms that the Citadel had expected to be laid out and worked from, but was shocked when Ambassador Jiv-nar raised her paw and gestured for the Asari Matriarch to stop. Seraya halted in mid sentence, shocked at the breach of diplomatic protocol. That was another card that Jiv-nar decided to play. She knew that the standards of diplomacy in Citadel Space were much the same as they were in the Alliance. Breaking those rules…or at least ignoring them until she wished to obey them gave her a potent tool. Diplomacy and negotiations were like a game of chess. To play, both sides needed to obey the rules, pieces moved a certain way, both sides took turns…but when you knocked over the board when you were losing, it tended to complicate matters.

"Matriarch, you are acting as though the Alliance was responsible for this conflict. We are not." Jiv-nar said, and the tone of her last three words left no room for debate.

"Ambassador, the Alliance was attempting to blindly open a Mass Relay." Seraya said, her voice tightening at what she thought was a denial.

"That is incorrect Matriarch. The science expedition was attempting to study the Mass Relay, it had no intention of activating it. Besides that, the relay was a point to point Relay, and the twin was at Macedyn. So even if our researchers had accidentally activated it, the relay would have linked to the Turian system, not a blind jump across the galaxy. Unless you consider making contact with the Hierarchy to be a dangerous action." Jiv-nar said calmly.

"The policy of the Citadel is that no matter what, you do not blindly open Mass Relays Ambassador. Yes, that relay linked to Macedyn, but how were you to know? It took the Turian scout detachment several days to calculate that." Seraya said.

"Our vessels hailed the Turian ships repeatedly, but they opened fire without hesitation, on our combat craft, _and_ on unarmed fleeing civilian transports. Our ships refused to fire first, only engaging after they had been attacked. Your Turian vessels proceeded to attack even as the science ships fled. Is it Council policy to attack civilians?" Jiv-nar asked, an almost predatory smile on her features. She was not going to hold back at the moment, she was jabbing deep, skirting close to another card she had to play.

"The situation was unfortunately an extreme action by the Turian commander. It is regrettable, but the commander had no way of understanding your hails Ambassador." Seraya said, hedging her own comment slightly to gloss over the situation.

"Well, it is unfortunate that the Turian commander could not understand Salarian." Jiv-nar replied.

"Salarian? What are you talking about ambassador?" Seraya said, blinking in surprise, taken slightly off guard by that comment, she'd never been briefed on anything along those lines. The Turians had said the Alliance vessels had failed to communicate properly…

"Yes Matriarch, we had some assistance from a Salarian in learning his language, we thought that it would be prudent to communicate in a language that might be understood by a Citadel warship, we were unfortunately mistaken. I would hope that in future your ships have the ability to communicate in Salarian, Asari, or Turian…or any of the myriad languages in the Galaxy. It may avoid unfortunate misunderstandings in future." Jiv-nar replied to Seraya's shock. She smiled slightly and poured herself a measure of strong Russian tea into a glass cup set in silver. The Aslan pointedly ignored the surprise registering across the Asari's features, the slight flicker of emotion was clearly like the tip of an iceberg. It had to be a major jar for her to register anything at such a delicate time. Jiv-nar smiled as she raised the steaming tea to her lips and sipped at it, letting the Asari consider her own glass for a long few moments.

"We shall have to consider those matters at a later time Ambassador. Right now this is a discussion between the Alliance and the Citadel." Seraya said. Jiv-nar nodded.

"Of course, you are quite right. Considering the situation that has occurred, the assault on our scientific expedition without provocation. The slaughter of the majority of the expedition, failure to attempt communication, we feel that requires the Alliance to assert our territorial rights and demarcate a set frontier at a later date which isn't dependent on the Mass Relays. Simply to avoid further misunderstandings. But that will be for later discussion of course. Once this matter is resolved, the State Department will be quite eager to inform you of where our territory exists. Now, as for a demilitarized zone at Shanxi. That is unacceptable to the Alliance. We have already experienced an invasion by the Turians there which was beaten back at severe loss of life, both military and civilian. We will be maintaining our right to station military forces there." Jiv-nar said flatly, her eyes meeting Seraya's over the table as the Asari examined her tea for a moment.

"I see, that is unfortunate Ambassador. The presence of military forces so close to Macedyn makes for the possibility of conflict once they are returned to the Hierarchy." Seraya said, sipping her tea and contemplating the taste, working to feel aloof. They both knew that the Alliance would never surrender their systems to the Citadel, to ask would be too much.

"We will be keeping Macedyn and the other systems seized as well." Jiv-nar said and Seraya looked across the edge of the tea cup at the Aslan.

"Now it is my turn to say that it is impossible. That is the only nonnegotiable consideration Ambassador. The Turian Hierarchy has made it clear that they will be recovering those systems by force, whatever the cost." Seraya said, and Jiv-nar looked at the Asari. She had been briefed on numerous 'possible' responses to the seizure of Macedyn and the other Turian systems as a possible step-off point into Council space. She knew that High Command wanted to hang onto the Turian worlds, but the State Department was reluctant because of the biological difficulties of colonizing the worlds. Jiv-nar realized that the Asari weren't going to budge on the matter. The Aslan nodded to herself.

"We will consider the return of these worlds for the time being, but you must understand, the Turians decided to assault us, using these planets as a staging area to move their forces against us. Leaving the Hierarchy in a position to strike against us is not a wise decision Matriarch, do you disagree?"

"You assume that the Hierarchy would wish to strike against you once more, we hope to make such things an impossibility in the future Ambassador." Seraya said artfully, and Jiv-nar smiled at the evasion of the answer, saying something while saying nothing was an art that the Asari knew well. The Aslan sipped her tea again and her smile faded.

"We shall consider the return of Macedyn provided the system was demilitarized and no Turian military vessels were allowed access to the system." Jiv-nar said. She knew that the Alliance might not be able to keep control of the Macedyn system, but if they could make things difficult for the Turians to stage forces there…it would be a net gain. Seraya looked at Jiv-nar long and hard for a few moments, contemplating the offer before speaking.

"Such an offer is rather difficult. But at the moment I can consider that if an allotment would be made for smaller patrol ships being permitted to access the system." Seraya counted.

"It will be considered, but a demilitarization of the Macedyn system that includes any combat spacecraft which could pose a threat to the Systems Alliance is the foundation of any peace accord." Jiv-nar said not budging on the matter. For a moment the Asari Matriarch stared across the table contemplating whether to push the issue or to let it rest, but the look in Jiv-nar's eyes made it clear that the Alliance wasn't going to let the Turians strike against them again, at least not from Macedyn.

"Alright, we shall consider this position set for the moment." Seraya said generously, and Jiv-nar gave a slight bow towards the Asari.

"I am glad that you are willing to be so forthcoming." Jiv-nar said with a smile.

"Given the damage that has been done to your world from this misunderstanding with the Turian Hierarchy, we are willing to push for reparations to be made by the Hierarchy. At the moment though, a financial amount would have to be decided at a later date by an independent commission. But given the damage done to Macedyn, any amount would be negligible." Seraya said, moving onto the next issue adroitly. She had her own scorecard and did not like the idea that she had been forced to make the first concession to the Systems Alliance, but was prepared to push on this issue. Reparations for this war would be token in nature only. The Turians would not abide by any kind of payment after losing three of their systems to the Alliance. But Seraya was sure that with the damage done to Macedyn's infrastructure…they would have no argument.

"Reparations will be made Matriarch, in the range of at least five hundred billion credits. That is the minimum amount that the Systems Alliance will accept." Jiv-nar said calmly, and the Asari had no reply to _that_ little rebuttal, except looking at her notes for a moment and tilting her head to the side, the expression on her face one that seemed to be expecting a joke.

"I beg your pardon Ambassador?" Seraya asked curiously.

"Five hundred billion credits, Citadel standard. That is the minimum we shall accept. And given the amount of damage done to Shanxi we expect a much higher amount to be awarded us by an independent committee. The damage to Shanxi was extensive." Jiv-nar said calmly, and she mentally flexed her fingers to draw the next card she had to play.

"I do not think that will be possible Ambassador. Such a sum is exorbitant."

"We lost tens of thousands at Shanxi, and at Macedyn, the entire world was devastated by the Hierarchy. It is without question a dreadful toll against the people of the Alliance." Jiv-nar said.

"That may be, but similar damage was done to Macedyn and a t-" Seraya began, clearly planning a long response to the point, but was taken by surprise when Jiv-nar raised her hand to silence the Asari. A crack appeared in the Matriarch's calm façade, an expression of annoyance drifting over her features before she nodded in silence for Jiv-nar to continue.

"Similar damage? I beg your pardon Matriarch, but the Systems Alliance did not utilize any Mass Accelerator weapons against the surface of Macedyn." Jiv-nar said, casting the point down on the table with all the weight of a cinderblock being tossed onto the conference table. The Matriarch blinked again, and then her eyes narrowed.

"That is a dangerous allegation Ambassador." Seraya said finally.

"Yes, very dangerous, given the tremendous loss of life when the Turians used Mass Accelerators against a garden world. That is against your rules of war, is it not? Or do those only apply to your enemies?" Jiv-nar said, and cast aside the cool and calm mask she had been wearing, the true tone of the negotiations laid bare.

"This is a dangerous allegation." Seraya replied and the veteran Aslan diplomat pressed her advantage by throwing down another point.

"Yes, just like the allegations of mass executions of prisoners of war and civilians. Is that a standard practice in Citadel warfare? Or do you simply allow the Turians to carry that out against species who you don't control?" Jiv-nar said with a snarl. The polite and postured diplomatic meeting had suddenly taken a turn for the worse and the Asari didn't know just how scripted Jiv-nar's performance was. The Aslan knew that there were ways of doing things, and just like when she had broken protocol before to garner an advantage, she was doing so now.

"You dare make such a statement?" Seraya said, her voice deadly soft, and the expression on her face enough that if looks could kill, Jiv-nar would long since have become a corpse.

"Yes Matriarch, I dare. We know much of how the Turians wage their wars. We've been on the receiving end of them, but the Asari have only been the ones holding the leash…not just on the Turians, but also of the Krogan…and that worked well, you turned the other way until their actions were thrown in your face. Now the Turians actions have been thrown in your face. What do you propose?" Jiv-nar said, her expression as dangerous as the Matriarch's.

"That will be dealt with by us Ambassador, not you." Seraya replied.

"Much like the Krogan. Or perhaps the Quarians? The Citadel has a nasty history of betraying it's people. But now is not the time for discussing the shortcomings of your political leadership. Instead it is how we are going to end this war before you find the First fleet bearing down on your precious Citadel and enforcing a change in your government. Perhaps making it more…civilized." Jiv-nar growled the last word with enough force that the Asari winced as if the Aslan had reached across the table and slapped her.

"You…" Seraya said, the centuries old Matriarch taken aback by the suddenly forceful and brutish method that the Ambassador had decided to employ.

"I represent the Alliance Matriarch, and what happened on Shanxi in it's entirety is not known to the general public. You would best remember that your actions here are to placate them. The hundreds of billions of free citizens in the Alliance. You have to make _them_ happy with your peace Matriarch. Otherwise…if their outrage is stoked, an army of billions and a navy of thousands of ships will be marching on Citadel space. Because the Turians have done much to fire the rage of my people…and you would do best to _fear_ that Matriarch. We've done you a favor in not telling our people everything." Jiv-nar said forcefully. Her eyes locked on those of the Matriarch. It was a silent battle of wills, the Aslan had the better footing, the Asari had hundreds of years of resolve.

It was a long heartbeat before the Matriarch replied.

"You have no _right_ to make these demands." She said finally.

Jiv-nar did not reply. Instead, she simply stood, and walked out of the room. Leaving the Asari sitting there, shocked and silent.

* * *

"They're fragile madam President." Ambassador Jiv-nar said to President Trindle. The human female nodded as she listened to the Aslan diplomat, her eyes not straying from the display that showed the Asari Matriarch and her entourage leaving the conference room, her head shaking angrily as she stalked down the hall to her chambers. Trindle smiled grimly at the display, Jiv-nar had known what buttons to push to get the reaction that she wanted, and the Asari hadn't quite caught onto it.

"Fragile?" Trindle asked.

"Yes, fragile. They expect much. They're arrogant. They've never been challenged like this before. That Matriarch…I fully expect that she came here planning on us kowtowing to her instructions and giving into whatever she wanted so that we could have peace. She's not so much disappointed as she is shocked by our positions…I don't believe that any species in Citadel Space would ever be so brazen in their treatment of the Asari or the Citadel Council. That triumvirate has the 'known galaxy' under their thumb very thoroughly." Jiv-nar said.

"And now we're here and they haven't got things cemented so well?" Trindle asked.

"Exactly madam president. We're a threat. They knew that they had to do something to placate us and make us happy. Reparations were more of a token gesture. Just like returning our gains to the Turians. It's enough that they can show 'we got it back, they accepted our terms' to the rest of the galaxy and save face. Whereas our stance is enough that they'll be having a fit over them. The Turians are a militant group demilitarizing one of their worlds…that's incredibly insulting to them. Reparations…half a trillion isn't nearly what we should be asking…but asking for it in _Citadel_ credits…that's a real number to them, not Half a trillion Alliance credits, they can rationalize that as 'alien trinkets' or some such." Jiv-nar replied.

"After what they did to Shanxi, they should be glad we don't want to keep Macedyn…" Trindle said.

"It's worthless to us madam president. The entire ecosystem is toxic to us. Even demilitarizing the system is pointless, a quick jump can carry a fleet to Macedyn and then Shanxi with little difficulty. Any observation force would get wiped out before they could signal, or so High Command tells us. Demilitarization is just a slap in the face we need to deliver." Jiv-nar explained.

"I know, I know. But what about Admiral Varkus, that didn't come up." Trindle asked, knowing that the Turian Admiral had already faced a military tribunal for war crimes and been found guilty. The death sentence he had been given was currently on hold, but the Admiral…along with much of his command staff, the weapons crews who'd fired on Shanxi and loaded and launched the nuclear device had all been placed on trial and were awaiting death. The Turians had not known that the Alliance did not consider 'I was just following orders' to be a lawful defense….especially given the magnitude of their actions. It had shocked the Turians, especially when their legal counsel had explained to them the difference in the Alliance between lawful and unlawful orders.

"No madam president it did not. And that issue is something we can use as well. Varkus and the other Turian war criminals are a very pointed measure we can use to drive a point home. I recommend that we don't even tell the Matriarch we have them or that we've put them on trial. Once the executions take place, the Citadel Council will be informed that numerous war criminals were tried, convicted and executed in accordance with the Rules of War. We have the benefit of the Citadel Conventions expressly forbidding the measures taken by Varkus. Any outrage would be viewed as hypocrisy. And if it's one thing the Citadel Council cannot afford, it is giving their subject races reason to question their authority. Demanding that war criminals be released would be tantamount to saying 'do as I say, not as I do'."

"And that doesn't work on a child."

"Precisely. Strife and conflict would follow, and they have enough strife already."

"Oh?"

"Yes madam president, intelligence believes that the Turian Hierarchy has been very vocal over this situation. The Asari negotiations are not at their request, but rather despite their wishes." Jiv-nar said.

"They want a war."

"Exactly, and the Asari aren't letting them fight one."

"Hence your comments about the Turians being on a leash?"

"Yes madam president. To remind the Asari that leashed dogs are good, but when your dog turns on you, a leash is not the best thing to have when you're holding it."

"The price of failure here is that their precious peacekeepers stop keeping the peace."

"And with it, hundreds of raiders, pirates and warlords start causing trouble, and the Alliance Army, Navy and Marine corps cease to be their most pressing threat." Jiv-nar said.

"I see. Thank you for the briefing Ambassador Jiv-nar, I'm glad you are handling the negotiations. You're doing an excellent job." President Trindle said, shaking the Aslan's paw with a smile. The tall, lithe female bowed slightly and smiled.

"It is an honor madam president."

* * *

Matriarch Seraya fumed behind the cool façade she had erected. That insignificant alien had dared insult the Citadel, and to be so brazen about it…the Asari shook her head slightly as she sat in the opulent accommodations the Alliance had provided her. She knew better than to say anything within it's confines since the room was undoubtedly monitored, despite the best jamming equipment that the Salarians could devise…or at least allow others to use. Seraya stared at the low table before her, breathing slowly and making several mental notes about the situation. As she thought, her anger shifted from the Alliance Ambassador to the Turian Hierarchy.

The bastards had omitted the detail of their orbital bombardment…using Mass Accelerators no less. It was a very blatant violation of the Citadel Conventions, which would have been kept discrete by the Council in exchange for a few Turian concessions. Such was the way things worked. It was an open secret that the Turians bullied other species when they could get away with it…more than one Asari Matriarch had voiced concern that the Turians seemed to 'acquire' more protectorates and client races than any other galactic power…and all of them tended to be peoples who hadn't met the Citadel Council. Seraya sighed softly. If only the damn Turians hadn't been so brazen in their assault, or even if they'd managed to contain the situation properly, this would have been simply another 'new client state' for the Hierarchy and that would be that. The Asari rubbed her temple and reminded herself that she was here to broker a peace accord. After a few moments, she decided on a compromise that would appease the Alliance…and punish the Turians.

She sighed and wished for a moment that she was dealing with Batarians. Those nice, xenophobic, imperialistic slavers were a dream compared to this mess. Even if they were bullying their way around the Skyllian Verge and annexing independent worlds. It would have been easier trying to talk them off of Esan than trying to placate this Systems Alliance. Once again, Seraya scowled, her eyes staring out the window that gave it's breath taking view of the Arcturus System. She half wished that the Batarians and the Alliance would deal with each other and keep out of the Citadel Council's way. Seraya shook her head at that thought….then paused. She closed her eyes, considering the shape of the galaxy and the supposed location of the Systems Alliance…and then considered the distance from the Skyllian Verge…

The Batarians had been lobbying strongly for the creation of 'a zone of special Batarian interest' across the entire Skyllian Verge. Plus they had been making large strides in colonizing the system and building infrastructure…

Seraya smiled, realizing that she had just created a solution to several problems the Citadel was facing. The Asari filed away that decision, deciding that the two most glaring issues could be resolved, and without a doubt the peace could be obtained for the benefit of the Citadel Council. Seraya smiled and rose, preparing for sleep, and feeling very vindicated with her sudden decision. But the Alliance would not receive it without some movement on their own issues. Threats aside, they would submit themselves to the proper galactic authority.

* * *

**Arcturus Station, December 19****th**** 2157**

"…it's been three weeks Matriarch. I tire of these games." Jiv-nar said idly, sitting at the same chair she had taken at the beginning of the almost daily negotiations three weeks ago, sitting behind the same cut-crystal and silver cup, sipping her tea and looking at the Matriarch. Jiv-nar's attire had changed, now she was wearing a black three piece suit rather than an elegant Chinese dress. There were no real frills anymore, no testing of the waters. Jiv-nar's outburst on the first day, carefully scripted as it was, had been the only one. Seraya knew most of what the Alliance knew, and she had dodged, feinted and considered many issues over the negotiations. Jiv-nar didn't feel tired though. She did not feel fatigued, she was fighting her fight just as skillfully, and not once during the past three weeks had she faltered in her battle with the Asari.

But she knew that Seraya had not done so either. The Matriarch was poised, calm and controlled…and fighting hard.

"These are not games Ambassador. We have made it clear we are willing to provide you with a guarantee that the Turian Hierarchy will pay four hundred billion credits of reparations, along with the Citadel Council as a whole providing another hundred billion in reparations due to the unfortunate attack on Shanxi." Seraya said and Jiv-nar noted the subtle and consistent use of 'unfortunate' to describe the invasion of an Alliance world.

"And the Alliance accepts that point readily. We have also conceded the inability to demilitarize Macedyn to any reasonable level, and merely are willing to accept the placement of a monitoring station at the Macedyn Mass Relay to ensure that the Hierarchy will not make any further unprovoked assaults upon Shanxi or any other Alliance world from their colony after we have returned it." Jiv-nar said, leaving out the fact that High Command would be keeping an entire deep penetration reconnaissance detachment within the Macedyn system…the monitoring station was merely the _visible_. Watch on the system.

"And the Citadel Council is grateful for that concession and overjoyed at the trust the Alliance is placing in the Hierarchy so soon after a conflict. As I said prior, a Citadel observation force will remain in Macedyn to ensure that no misunderstandings take place again." Seraya said with a nod.

"A generous measure Matriarch, but we still must consider the fact that the borders of the Systems Alliance must be recognized. Our use of the Mass Relays is not as extensive, and major local colonization efforts have taken place across our space. We have provided a map of our territorial claims, and the Systems Alliance does not understand the issues being raised by the Citadel Council." Jiv-nar said, once again, returning to the issue that had been the major battleground for the past five days. Seraya sighed, breaking her calm demeanor in a carefully crafted gesture of her own as Jiv-nar shook her head and looked away, rubbing her forehead softly with one paw. The Aslan's tail flicked idly beneath the table edge, not enjoying the thought of another sparring match over territorial boundaries.

"We have made it clear that the Systems Alliance claims a large tract of territory, several worlds that have already been charted by the Citadel Council." Seraya said, her voice sounding as if she were scolding the Aslan.

"Charted, yes, but there is only one colonized world and that doesn't swear loyalty to the Council, it is occupied by the council." Jiv-nar said.

"I am aware Ambassador, but none the less, that world is of vital interest to the Citadel Council. That is why the Citadel Council maintains it as a Demilitarized zone and observes it so heavily."

"Tuchanka is no threat to the Citadel, and neither are the Krogan." Jiv-nar said flatly.

"They carried out a massive series of rebellions that decimated the galaxy and nearly led to them over-running all of known space." Seraya said, the fire of the words not as pronounced as it had been when the discussion had first begun.

"They were sterilized and occupied Matriarch, twelve centuries ago. The threat is done, and I would have expected the council to be glad to get rid of them." Jiv-nar said.

"We shudder to think what might occur if the Krogan are not kept contained."

"It's rather unfortunate that you saw fit to use biological weapons against them to contain their threat…although…that was the Turians also, wasn't it?" Jiv-nar said, deviating from the script that the previous meetings had followed. The Aslan had begun to be slightly annoyed by the repetitive negotiations…a mistake. But Seraya didn't snap, she nodded.

"Yes…it was, a necessary, but unfortunate action. The Krogan were a threat, and they are still a violent race, despite the reduction in their numbers." Seraya replied, her expression looking saddened at the thought, _that _little expression was one that Jiv-nar had not seen cross the Asari's face before now. She blinked in shock.

"A…generous statement." Jiv-nar said.

"And a true one. If…_if_ the Citadel Council was willing to relinquish control of Tuchanka…would you consider the territorial dispute resolved? Provided a Citadel observation force could remain in orbit around Tuchanka to ensure that the Krogan do not become a pronounced threat once more." Seraya said, and Jiv-nar cocked her head to the side.

"I do not think that we could allow a Citadel presence of any kind within our borders Matriarch." Jiv-nar said.

"In exchange for wider territorial rights." Seraya said reluctantly.

"How much wider?" Jiv-nar asked.

"Colonial rights to the Skyllian Verge. A large region of space mostly unexplored by the Citadel Council. In exchange for allowing a token observation force limited to a station in orbit and a sensor grid, we give you a large span of territory as…payment for the privilege." Seraya said, sounding hopeful at the points. The Aslan female sat in silence, running over the proposal and examining the region space on her data pad. It was a large tract, distanced from Alliance holdings, but not by a large amount…and the potential resources there would be immense…

"I accept Matriarch." Jiv-nar said finally, and misunderstood just why the Matriarch smiled so broadly at her acceptance.

"That is wonderful news Ambassador. I feel that the needs of the Citadel Council and it's species are justly represented in this agreement. Do you feel that the Systems Alliance can accept this treaty?" Matriarch Seraya said, the smile on her face making Jiv-nar worry, but knowing that the Alliance had gotten everything that it had wished for…and much more than they had hoped. Recognition from the Council, reparations, normalization of borders and territorial claims…things like trade and commerce would be handled by other negotiators. The Alliance had the borders that it wanted, the political victory it craved…and the military security that it desired. They had gotten everything that they'd wanted…but Jiv-nar worried. She knew that the Parliament would accept it without hesitation…

All they had to do was keep quiet about the more vicious Turian methods undertaken during their invasion of Shanxi. No military limits, no condemnations or tariffs out of hand. No demands for territory or information at the moment. The Alliance simply had to remain silent and give back three worlds they couldn't use.

But something didn't feel right…at all…the way that Matriarch had smiled…

"For the Systems Alliance, I accept this treaty. I hope that the future will hold more peaceful and prosperous relations for our civilizations." Jiv-nar said with a smile as false as her hope. The Aslan stood and reached out a hand, sealing the agreement between the two diplomats with a handshake.

* * *

**Arcturus Station, December 24****th**** 2157**

It was a political move. Signing the peace accord on Christmas Eve. The holiday was widespread throughout the Systems Alliance, the Christian roots of the holiday observed by the devoutly religious, the consumerist roots of it observed by everyone. But the carols and prayers always called for 'Peace on Earth'. Of course, that was a _bit_ of a stretch these days, but like a lot of things, saying Terra or Muan Gwi, or Lair or Kuzu was usually synonymous with the Alliance as a whole…so peace for the Systems Alliance would be signed into agreement on Christmas Eve. The press conference and treaty signing had been undertaken on Arcturus Station, despite the extremely fierce arguments made by the Citadel Council. However, the final draw card that Ambassador Jiv-nar had possessed had been the disclosure of the Turian Nuclear weapon.

The Council had agreed quickly to a journey to Arcturus.

So in the main assembly chamber, before the seated delegates and representatives of the Systems Alliance, the Citadel Council approached with all the regal baring they could muster. It was not hard for them to maintain their sense of pride, even with the eyes of hundreds of sentients watching them walking down the main aisle. Matriarch Tevos walked down the gently sloping walk first. Her head held high as she walked in her long gown, flanked by the deadly bodyguard of Commandos who seemed nervous at their own disarmament. Behind her followed Councilor Anotus, his walk was just as confident and self assured, his own bodyguards nervous even for STG soldiers. At the rear of the procession was Councilor Valern, his walk was confident, but his head was down slightly, feeling the glares of the representatives. Human, Vegan, Aslan and Vargr eyes bore in on the Turian and his guards. While the war had been short and by comparison to most conflicts the Systems Alliance races had known, relatively bloodless, the Turians would forever hold a place of suspicion and distaste in the collective minds of the Alliance. As the trio of representatives walked to the presentation podium of the chamber, they all looked up, the massive figure of the captured Turian Dreadnought Borsta glided slowly overhead. The form was plainly visible, although instead of Turian script proclaiming it to be the Borsta, the letters had been buffed off and replaced by the lettering SSV _Shanxi._

The trio of Citadel Councilors walked up to the elegant table that rested at the front of the chamber. Standing behind it was President Trindle, four copies of the peace treaty resting on it's surface. The Councilors approached the table and bowed to the Systems Alliance President, and the woman smiled and returned the gesture. In unison, each of the beings standing at the table signed their own copy and slid it to the next. It took four separate shifts for the signatures to be affixed to each of the flimsheet documents. With those pen strokes, the war between the Citadel Council and the Systems Alliance was officially ended. Ushering in an age of peace…

…or at least, not so overt warfare.

* * *

**A/N:**

**No worries, this isn't the end. There's much more to be had, but I hope I got all your gray matter going at what might be next!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Next chapter folks… Sorry about the lag on my part.**

**On my own…thoughts as to the chapter. I only want to say that to me, the Citadel Council's resolution of the First Contact War, giving the Alliance colonization rights in the Attican Traverse and Skyllian Verge always seemed to be a ploy to me. The Asari are described in the Codex entries as taking the long view in things, and considering they live for centuries…they're thought of as making poor decisions in the short term, but are usually vindicated in the long term. Looking at the cannon results of giving colonization rights to the Systems Alliance resolved a large number of issues for the Council. It dealt with the Batarians politically since they left rather than making the council force them out, it placed a potent military force against them that fought pirates and slavers, placated the Systems Alliance in the aftermath of the war, and divided the Alliance fleet across a larger area of space that's rather distant from the Systems Alliance core systems. In essence, the Citadel Council shackled the Systems Alliance into a peacekeeping role without giving them the benefits of membership on the Council, or even paying them.**

**Remember, in ME 1 what Captain Anderson said? The Citadel wanted the Systems Alliance to colonize the Attican Traverse and Skyllian Verge to stabilize those regions, but the Citadel Councilors are extremely reluctant to send aid to colonies attacked by Saren's Geth. Even looking at the Galaxy map in ME 1 & 2, you can see the distances involved in traveling between Sol and the Traverse. Halfway across the galaxy, 50,000 lightyears. You need to keep fleets guarding that, even with Mass Relays…it's a long way away.**

**Divide and conquer, keep the Alliance military committed halfway across the galaxy, using their combat power to contain a known threat…and make them think that they're benefiting from it. It's incredibly cunning, and in my mind, the reason that the Asari made that negotiation in cannon, the same reason they made it in my story.**

* * *

**Shanxi, Memorial Square September 1st**** 2163**

Shanxi was still not rebuilt. The short and brutal three weeks of warfare that had ground it's way through the outer lying districts of the Capital city had left brutal scars across them. Most of the city had been reduced to rubble. Turian bombing had devastated much of the central city. Bodies, both Turian and Alliance had long since been dug out of the ruins of the city, but bones could still be found in them. The starport had been rebuilt, but the simple elegant lines of Shanxi's skyline were a memory that had yet to be rekindled. Much of the population who remained lived in simple buildings, not the towering skyscrapers that had yet to be rebuilt. The Alliance was pouring most of the reparations that the Citadel had given them into rebuilding the colony, but it was admitted that Shanxi would never be as attractive as it had been before the Turians had launched their assault upon it. Most colonists didn't want to live with the specter of a Turian invasion hanging over their heads. So reconstruction was limited by the number of people who lived there. But one thing that had to be done was to honor the dead. And given that the Short and violent conflict with the Turians was the Alliance's first true interstellar conflict, it was fitting that the monument be made on Shanxi along with similar monuments on the Alliance homeworlds.

Memorial Square had originally been the site of an office complex that had taken a direct hit from one of the Borsta's counter battery rounds. The office building had been annihilated along with the anti-air battery atop it…in it's place a massive crater the size of a city block had been created. When the memorial had been built, that 'natural' bowl had been incorporated. The sides had been tiered out in broad stairs that gently carried one down to the central monument. One each of the broad and wide levels, marker stones rested barely a foot tall, on each was inscribed a the name of a soldier who had died and where they were from. Over 70,000 of those individual stones rested in neat and silent rows, the names facing inwards towards the central monolith. Carved of black obsidian, the obelisk rose to twice the height of a humanoid. On this central monument was carved the name of every civilian who had died during the battle of Shanxi, murdered by Admiral Varkus' bombardment. More than 90,000 names adorned that stone, mute witnesses whose testimony needed no explanation.

Surrounding this obelisk was a wall that came up to the average person's waist. On this was the militia monument, a flat 'tablet' like top went around the top of this wall, that boasted the names of every member of the Shanxi Militia who had given their lives defending their families and homes against the Turian onslaught. Behind each name though, a holo played, showing the face of the males and females who had died, standing strong not for flag or country, but for family and home.

The entire monument was always lit, either by daylight, or by the soft glow of the marker candles that existed for every soul whose life had been lost. To walk in this memorial, you could feel the eyes of those who had died watching you…feel their presence around you as you stood there. It always made those who stood within it's limits silent. Standing there, seeing the markers at night…it took your breath away.

Major Carmichael returned to the memorial more often than most. He always wore his dress uniform. Even if he was militia and not Alliance Army, he still wore the dress green uniform that he had never really worn for anything except what he had been ordered to wear it to. But Carmichael always wore it here. He looked around the monument and saw other soldiers standing around. Some looking at names, others with heads bowed, some speaking to the markers. Carmichael never spoke to them. But his troopers, they knew he was here, and he had to show them respect when he came. As he walked down the broad steps, he passed other soldiers, and each of them straightened and saluted him as he passed. The Alliance Medal of Honor around his neck was the highest award to be earned. The simple bronze star was not a gaudy emblem, it was simple, but it's power was beyond compare in the military community. Even if those who wore it merely viewed it as an award that should have been given to a dozen others…they still wore it…but not with pride…not really.

Carmichael wore his out of honor for the soldiers who had died under his command, even though he had been a Captain when the Turians had invaded, he'd commanded over six hundred militia and army troops whose units had been wiped out. He'd fought and bled along side of them and many of them hadn't crawled through the wreckage as they'd fallen back from the Turians. Those who had were heroes, they'd gotten their medals, had their awards. But those who hadn't, their names were here. Carmichael walked down to the militia memorial and walked around the panels where the names of the militia had been inscribed. He knew where every name was, he knew it by heart, and he knew how long it took him to touch every one of their names and close his eyes for a moment, remembering the soldier who went with it. He knew how long, but he never begrudged it, he never regretted spending hours here, remembering soldiers…because that was what he knew he had to do, he wore the Medal of Honor for the same reason, to remember.

To remember the sacrifices and the lives lost. Not passing things like honor and glory, but the things that would always remain, the lives lost.

* * *

**The Citadel, Presidium Junction, Zakera Ward, July 5****th**** 2163**

"It's not Miami." Ambassador Kyle Sykes said idly, standing at the large window that looked out across the massive form of Zakera ward stretching off into the distance. The dark skinned man was idly gazing out the window of the newly completed Systems Alliance 'embassy' on the Citadel. Built near Presidium Junction, close to the central presidium ring, the massive structure was one of the larger private buildings in the Ward. The structure looked for the most part like any office building…but unlike the rest of the Ward's structures, this one had been built wholly by the Alliance, complete with materials shipped in on Alliance transports. Fifteen stories of synthetic diamond armor glass and adamantium supports made it look like any of the myriad office buildings close to the Junction, but instead, it was as strong a fortress as any military bunker. Taking four years to design and construct, after an entire year's worth of political negotiations with the Council for the construction of the building, it was a marvel that it existed at all.

Although the Citadel Council had not granted the Alliance an embassy…the Systems Alliance had not been in any kind of a hurry to petition for one. But Ambassador Jiv-nar had been very clear to point out to the Council that an 'embassy' for the Systems Alliance was a diplomatic post that existed between nations. It had been one of the many 'linguistic problems' between the Citadel Council and the Systems Alliance, like most it dealt with the simple fact that the Citadel seemed to use terms that possessed different meanings for the Alliance.

'Embassy' was one such term…to the Council, an embassy was only offered once a people had accepted the Council's authority and agreed to abide by their accords. That wasn't something that the Systems Alliance was going to do. But given the diplomatic situation, the Alliance had made it clear that there needed to be some kind of diplomatic station on the Citadel, so permission had been granted for the Alliance to build their own diplomatic mission without the same privileges as other species. The Council had been very clear when they declared permission that the Systems Alliance wouldn't receive the same degree of diplomatic access as the other species. Which had been met with a simple reply of 'no great loss' by the State Department.

"No, it's not Ambassador, but the Citadel is supposedly the most cosmopolitan metropolis in the galaxy. All the Citadel races have sent migrants here." The deputy chief of mission said behind him, her voice soft as she spoke. Ambassador Sykes looked over his shoulder at Min-tra, the female Aslan looked up from her data pad and cocked her head to the side.

"Yes…supposed to be. New frontiers and all that. But how often do you get odd looks on the street from the locals?" Sykes asked.

"Fairly often sir, but I usually expect it to be for my startling good looks." Min-tra said with a smile and received a chuckled from Sykes in return. The ambassador turned from the windows, letting the cityscape beyond them carry on with it's existence, his eyes and mind returning to his duties.

"So what is on the agenda today?"

"The Volus are here again. The ambassador is claiming that we're infringing on 'historical Volus markets'. Of course, they have been proclaiming their commitment to Free Trade in just about every venue they can find. I've included a few comments from their prominent Industrialists proclaiming their desire for trade in Alliance markets." Min-tra said, handing a data pad to Sykes, he looked at it for a few moments.

"They're getting keyed up over a few Wal-Mart's?" Sykes said looking at the information, rolling his eyes.

"And Burger Kings ambassador." Min-tra said in deadpan.

"Of course, that makes all the difference. And the reason that the commercial Attaché can't handle this…?"

"The Volus have been hearing 'free trade' from her every other word, they expect you to have a more…open understanding as to what they mean. Of course, they're smarting over the fact that Zurich is showing a much more reliable streak than the traditional Volus banking institutions." Min-tra pointed out.

"So we're pissing them off on more than one front?" Sykes said with a sigh. Ambassador Sykes was without a doubt one of the most important beings in the Systems Alliance. Originally a Career Foreign Service Officer for the State Department, he had risen up by using the proper mixture of politics (a common commodity in the State Department), talent (a rarer commodity, and charisma (the rarest of them all in _any _government bureaucracy), he'd bundled them together and managed to earn the post of 'Ambassador to the Citadel' even if the Citadel Council didn't maintain any kind of embassy on Arcturus and refused to refer to the Alliance facility as an 'embassy'. Sykes had the unenviable job of dealing with just about every diplomatic issue that existed between the Citadel Council and the Systems Alliance. Strangely enough, it wasn't over military standoffs since the borders were very clearly defined, nor was it over espionage across space, the Alliance Intelligence Service's senior agent in the embassy took care of that. No…trade…that was the biggest concern for the most part. Alliance Industries had seen the opening of the galaxy as a tremendous opportunity, and even before an official trade mission to the Citadel could be undertaken in the aftermath of the First Contact War, Human and Aslan traders had already been loading freighters with just about anything that they thought would sell.

So ironically, the Embassy that Sykes and his staff operated from had offices for major Alliance Corporations of just about every stripe and product. From Electronics firms like Sony/Samsung, and Drak-mek-tal/IBM…to Arms manufacturers like Colt/Heckler/Koch, Verak/Benelli, and Drak-atk-kiv/Federal…to software giants like EA/Bioware, Microsoft, and North American Synthetics. Most major corporations had an office at the Embassy and were eager participants in the trade shows that regularly filled the convention halls that had been designed into the Embassy. At first they had been curiosities to the residents of the Citadel…but it hadn't taken long before the Citadel's own traders had begun to see Alliance goods as more than merely trinkets. Salarians and Quarians flocked to the electronics and software expos, Batarians, Krogan…and even Turians came to examine the Arms demonstrations by Alliance firms.

Sykes didn't relish playing ringmaster to the diverse assortment of Alliance corporations that filled the Embassy, especially since many of them were bitter rivals back in Alliance Territory, but out here, the corporate interests had a 'new world' mentality…there was profit everywhere in their eyes. From new electronics that were ten years old being sold to Salarians, to a food processing corporation marketing genetically engineered Dextro based beef to Turians, they were making the kind of money on the Citadel that hadn't been seen since the days of Henry Ford and Andre Carnegie. Not that they didn't bristle at some of the 'regulations' that the Alliance Parliament had put in place.

The First Contact War had been won in no small part due to the Alliance's edge in technology. It was an edge that the Alliance wanted to keep, so the Parliament had passed resolutions limiting the tech levels of any goods sold in Citadel Space. It restricted weapons technology, computing technology and electronics among others, anything that could be turned back against the Alliance was forbidden. Most corporations had lobbied long and hard against those restrictions. They'd poured billions into campaigns to give them unrestricted trading privileges…but the political leadership in the Alliance had bucked the usual trend of politicians to pander to those who gave them money, and instead they showed remarkable foresight and forbade the practice…and to drive home the point, made it one of the few actions that could be charged as High Treason in the Alliance. Which was one of the reasons that Sykes occasionally regretted being so good at his job.

But only occasionally, he smiled to himself at the thought. He couldn't deny that he loved being here, doing something that truly impacted the galaxy. Plus it was pretty nice to be considered the number one diplomat in the Alliance.

"What else is on the agenda today?" Sykes asked, sitting down at the carved obsidian desk that he'd had moved to the embassy. His hands rested on the black polished stone, tapping the top of it idly.

"The Batarian situation has returned. They're claiming that our ownership of the Skyllian Verge is against council law." Min-tra said tiredly. The Batarians tended to bring up the issue fairly often, but the Alliance had yet to move any colony ships into the contested territory. But, the Alliance had just unveiled a new 'colonization drive' with an undisclosed direction. It could be into local space, but it could also be moving into the Verge or the Traverse, finally following the Navy's covert reconnaissance probes of the territory. Sykes didn't want to have to deal with the situation, ever since the Batarians had announced that they considered the Skyllian Verge to be a zone of Batarian interest in the wake of the Citadel Council's ceding of the territory to the Alliance things had been tense with the Hegemony. While the Alliance had yet to do anything more than scout, the Batarians had been furious. Furious enough that the Alliance had been tempted to move forces into the Verge to 'stake their claim'.

But the Batarians weren't the only ones to react harshly to the Council's abandoning of the Verge. Turian, Asari, Salarian, and numerous other Citadel races had small colonies in the area…colonies that had come under de facto Alliance control. It had sparked more tensions with the Citadel, and while the council had made it clear that the treaty would be enforced. There were some in the Alliance's military and political leadership who wondered if the Council hadn't made their concession with an eye to causing strife and tense relations for the Alliance. Sykes had been communicating back and forth with the State Department on the issue almost weekly since the Batarians had first contacted the Alliance over the issue. No answer had yet been satisfactory for the Batarians yet. They hadn't accepted that the Council had given up the territory in the interests of peace, nor did they accept that the Alliance wasn't going to back down.

The Alliance intelligence reports on the Batarians all said the same thing, they were mostly a group of thugs, pirates and slavers who were used to having their way and not used to having others stand up to them. The Alliance Victories during the First Contact war had made them reluctant to try and bully around the Alliance, but a surprising increase in piracy and the first attempts at slaving in Alliance Territory were taking place. Both of those offenses had been practically non-existent in Alliance Territory due to the rather draconian sentences put in place to respond to them. Piracy was handled by military tribunal at naval stations once the pirates were caught. Slavers faced summary execution if they were caught with their cargo, alive or dead. Both of those bleak actions had made piracy extremely rare, and slaving was unheard of. But the recent upswing in incidents had led the Alliance to believe that some kind of proxy war was going on. Possibly being done by the Batarians…although no connections could be turned up.

Sykes knew that something had to be done about the situation. The Batarians would get more desperate the longer they were put off, and unfortunately for Sykes, he would be the one trying to diffuse the situation. He couldn't give them the Verge, or the portions of the Attican Traverse and Terminus Systems that had been ceded from the Council. Although apparently the Council had given the Alliance rights to 'future claims without contest by the Council'…not actual rights to the territory, just the promise that they wouldn't argue against any claims the Alliance made…which for now were none. Sykes admired the political maneuvering that the Council had undertaken to give the appearance of generosity while not actually giving up anything at all. It had been clever, clever enough that the Alliance couldn't do much more than grumble about it.

Sykes sighed and looked at the Datapad.

"Anything else?" He asked Min-tra and the Aslan shook her head. "No such like Ambassador, the Batarians are intent on speaking with you, but the Volus were here first." She said and checked the chrono on her wrist.

"Right…then let's speak with the Volus representatives over why they find 'always low prices, always' to be so offensive." Sykes sighed and wished he had something more intriguing to deal with than trade and territory rights.

* * *

**Deep Space near Relay 436, Corvette **_**SSV Avalon**_**, July 5****th**** 2163**

Name a Marine who likes customs duty, and you've found yourself someone who wasn't a Marine. At best, the work was tedious, at worst, it was simply mind numbing and boring. Most time, Alliance Corvettes and Frigates spent their customs and security patrols simply waiting at Mass Relays and navigation points to board and inspect any starship that passed through them. For the Marine compliments, it was a study in simply waiting for something to happen, and then carrying out the most monotonous duty they had been trained to carry out. Search a ship, inspect it, check the cargo, and then wave it past. Not something you liked doing, but lately the mission briefings had been treating the routine operation as one that could get you killed, hearing that kind of thing from your NCOs did make you sit up and take notice. So the mostly bored Marines started being bored _and _tense when they did their inspections.

But the _Avalon_ was still on patrol at the Mass Relay that linked this portion of Alliance space to Citadel Space. It was mostly Asari and the only real experience that the Marines aboard the _Avalon_ had with them came from the few interesting features in Playboy and the 'training videos' that the Navy pukes aboard kept hidden in the footlockers. None of the Marines had yet to see an Asari ship pass through the Relay, mostly it was Alliance traders going the other way or bringing back their own loads of goods…not that there was much of _that_. The Squad had boarded a total of two ships in the past week. It wasn't like the Shanxi Relay that boasted almost a hundred vessels a day. This was a backwater post…but you still had to be on guard, no telling what was going to happen.

Even if 'what was going to happen' was a transport out bound from the core worlds with a flight manifest proclaiming it to be headed towards Illium. The _Avalon_ had hailed it, and dutifully, the freighter halted, powered down and stood to for boarding by the Corvette's marine detachment. The ten veteran troopers didn't expect much of a fight, but they drew their Carbines, shouldered their Battle Rifles, and loaded up for the mission all the same, boarding the lightweight gig that handled the boarding ops so that the Corvette couldn't be counter boarded. It was far from a spacious craft, barely big enough to hold the ten marines aboard the _Avalon_, but it did the job. As the gig crossed the small gulf between the two ships, the squad did their final checks on weapons and gear. All the while getting their pre mission briefing information over their neural links. The Transport that they were searching was a pretty standard light freighter, two hundred meters long and 3,000 dtons displacement. Normally carrying a crew of five, possessed of light armaments in case of pirate attack. Of course, those were the standards of the class. There was no telling what the crew had done to their ship, and just how much might have changed from the stock layout.

"Alright, you know the drill marines, let's do this one by the book." Sergeant Hall said over the link as the ship's gig docked with the side passenger airlock on the transport. His marines stood, blasters in hand rather than the far more lethal Battle rifles. Blasters wouldn't rip holes in bulkheads like the fusion weapons would. Unless his team needed to vent a portion of the ship to the big V, they'd stick with good old particle weapons. As Hall faced the lock, the door synchronized and pressurized with the ship and slid open, revealing the crew waiting for them. The Marines startled at the sight of Turians and Batarians waiting for them, along with an Asari. Their surprise didn't register to anyone outside the combat links of their system. But the Turians and Batarians gazed at the Alliance Marines impassively, as if they'd expected this. The Asari strode forward, holding the ships data pad out with the cargo manifest and itinerary.

"I'm Captain Tranya. I hope this goes quickly marine." She said brusquely as Hall took the data pad and examined it. He didn't look up, but his helmet sensors kept a clear read on every one of the all alien crew. His battle AI registered eight of them, plus the Asari Captain. All of them were wearing combat armor, all of them were armed. That was the second thing that set Hall's nerves on edge, the first was that there wasn't a single Alliance citizen in view.

"I am Sergeant Hall, your ship is being searched under routine inspection. I trust that you will co-operate Captain?" Hall asked as his squad filed out of the airlock, a show of force to give strength to his words.

"We shall co-operate marine. Though the reason for this search is suspect, does the Alliance see fit to harass merchants in it's territory?" Tranya asked with a snarl. Hall looked up, once more, his senses tingling. He wasn't a psi, but the human impulse to make 'gut feelings' about things had him on edge. Over the squad comm he signaled corporal Yin-tak-zhark to take his fire team to search the cargo areas. As the five marines moved out, Hall noticed that the crew seemed to move to attempt to stop them, but restrained themselves. Hell looked at Tranya for a moment before handing back the data pad.

"You're hauling fabrics from Muan Issler to Illium?" He asked as the Asari took the data pad back from his gauntlet. The feminine alien simply nodded.

"That's not a crime is it human?" One of the Turians growled. Hall didn't turn and look at the alien, his HUD had a full 720 degree situational awareness, so the speaker was clearly identified as the words left his mouth. Hall's eyes narrowed behind his view plate, things were fishy, very fishy.

"If you're actually hauling fabrics, then no, not at all. But it's rather unusual to see an Alliance manufactured craft in the hands of a non-alliance crew. Especially since your peoples have cast such a…negative outlook on Alliance achievements." Hall replied, without turning, instead focusing on the scowl of the Asari as she glared at his faceplate. She didn't respond but shook her head in disgust.

"The Hierarchy is right about them." One of the Turians muttered.

"How's the search going?" Hall asked over his suit comm, his bad feeling no ebbing at all…simply building with every passing moment.

"Corporal, how does it look?" Hall asked the Vegan in command of his other fire team.

"Nothing unusual sarge. Just boxes and crates marked to Vegan standards. All fabrics and textiles it seems in two of the holds." Yin-tak-zhark replied simply, but the Vegan's voice was a little off.

"What's up Yin?" Hall prodded.

"I got a bad feeling Sarge. It's all too…perfect. Like it's taken chapter and verse from the Alliance Starlanes operations manual. Not a single discrepancy or error, the damn crates are lashed down according to spec." Yin replied, his voice uneasy. The Human sergeant resisted the urge to nod in agreement. Controlling body language was something that you had to learn when you operated in Marine power armor, the slightest motion could easily get out of hand even with the neural uplink. Shrugging your shoulders could shatter your spine, shaking your head could break your neck, just to name a few. Plus when someone saw a group of marines standing stock still, communicating without an audible word…it intimidated in a way that few things could…that was just an added bonus.

"Yeah…crack a few crates." Hall said over the link. Something was wrong…

"Aye aye." Yin replied.

"Captain, in accordance with Alliance Law we will be searching several of your cargo crates during our inspection. You will be reimbursed for any damages that occur." Hall said coldly over the audio link. Tranya blinked and straightened, the indignation radiating from her body.

"How _dare _you invade my ship and violate my cargo!" She snapped and the Turian and Batarian 'crew' moved slightly where they stood. Behind him, the other four marines in his element raised their carbines slightly. The measured motion was enough to grab the attention of the aliens, and they froze.

"Captain, under Alliance law, I have the right to make sure that all your manifests are accurate and…"

"We got something Sarge." Yin replied over the comm and with a thought, an image of Yin's HUD filled a corner of Hall's vision the first person perspective from the Vegan's armor gave Hall a visual of a crate that had been packed with a few layers of fabric in bolts, but beneath that were weapons.

"Understood." Hall said and turned to fully face the Asari Captain. His team had raised their weapons, but the veteran marine sergeant hadn't drawn his sidearm, instead he was merely willing to look up and shake his head. The ship's crew didn't move as the muzzles of four blaster carbines swept over them, weapons in the hands of trained marines usually made people freeze. The Asari Captain stepped forward and glared at Hall's faceplate.

"What is it now marine?" The captain said.

"Well, you're in violation of Alliance arms trading protocols, along with registering a falsified cargo manifest and I'm pretty sure that's not your real name either, but I digress. You're all under arrest." Hall said, a smile on his lips. The Asari blinked in surprise and the indignation was simply replaced with shock.

"On the deck, drop your weapons." Lance Corporal Hesh snapped from her place behind Hall. The vicious female Vargr stepped forward, her carbine ready as the Turians and Batarians knelt down slowly to the deck, their rifles and pistols dropping to the floor. Hesh moved forward with the other Marines and began flex cuffing the crew, the Asari resisted for a moment, but before she could do anything with her biotics or even draw a weapon Private Vastrati brought his hind leg smashing into the rear of the Asari's calf, the motion taking her leg out as the Aslan Marine grabbed her head tendrils and forced her to her knees. A howl of pain filled the airlock passage as she was bound…Vastrati doing the job exceptionally well by binding the Asari's arms and legs together.

"Thorough Vastrati, very thorough." Hall said with a smile behind his visor.

"Aye sir." The Aslan said with a growl and a chuckle as he knelt next to the Captain, his carbine pressed against the back of her neck, curtailing the obscenities that the female Captain was hurling at the marines. The Batarians and Turians were quiet, but with three power armored marines watching them, they decided to be prudent and stay silent.

"Prep them to be moved back to the _Avalon _and let them know what we found. I want to check what Corporal Yin found." Hall said and Lance Corporal Hesh gave an affirmative from where she stood. Hall headed down the main corridor, the HUD in his armor giving him a full map of the transport and showing him where the fire team was. Hall made his way down the central corridor of the cargo levels, spotting Private Samuels standing at the airlock hatch. Hall entered the cavernous cargo space and saw the rest of the team cracking open cargo containers and pulling weapons out of them. As a Marine, he knew most of the weapons by sight, even without his suit's AI analyzing them and identifying each on his HUD.

"It's a full playground of destruction Sarge." Corporal Yin said, laying out weapons on an improvised table of crates. Hall looked at them and walked over to the layout. Hall touched them and examined the weapons one at a time. First was an archaic M-8. In production for over a century and a half, it's development originated almost two centuries prior, a projectile selective fire assault rifle chambered in 7.8mm, it fired caseless solid propellant rounds from a forty round clip. Designed and built in the 2020's it had been the standard infantry weapon for the North American Union before it became obsolete as an infantry firearm. The rugged versatility of the weapon kept it in civilian production constantly even to current day. Hall raised it to his shoulder and looked down the integral scope then replaced it on the table.

"Why would they want one of those? Damn things are a dime a dozen on any Alliance world." Hall mused as he checked the rifle's serial numbers and ID tag on the side. His AI analyzed the information rapidly, but Hall could tell everything he needed to know from a few small tags. The long numerical serial number that was nano-etched on all the weapons parts and stamped on the side of the lower assembly identified it as being selective fire, civilian model. Something you could pick up at Cabelas or Wal-mart for that matter, you didn't even need a license for the thing. The Serial numbers would give plenty of leads to the Security Service in tracking down who made the sale. Hall set the rifle back down on the crates and picked up the next one.

A light support weapon, also projectile and also a caseless firearm. Hall examined it for a moment and set down the weapon, noting the fresh oil that his suit sensors told him matched the CHK standard they used in their armories. Hall shook his head, an M249 was an ancient weapon, chambered for 7mm caseless rounds. Belt fed, and boasting a hundred rounds capable of firing in burst, or fully automatic. Something that required a few sign offs to own, but not something unheard of in most collector's homes. Hall shook his head once again, it was a commonplace weapon, but that was because of the Alliance's firearms laws.

Anything that operated on a principle of chemical propellant was more or less legal with a background check. Automatic weapons, heavy support weapons, hell even crew served weapons were legal to own by the average citizen…but with the sensor technology used by the Alliance, chemical propellants could be readily detected and traced, making the use of a firearm for terrorism, or even a simple crime a dangerous proposition for the criminals in question. Hall looked at the weapons that had probably rolled of assembly lines months ago, and which had been designed over a century ago sitting on the cargo crates and wondered what the hell these smugglers wanted with them. Hall looked at the next weapon laying on the makeshift table. A Lair standard gyroc assault rifle. Behind his helmet Hall whistled slightly and Corporal Yin nodded, pointing to the weapon with his tendrils.

"Yeah, that had me a little concerned, along with the rest." Yin said, knowing the specs of the gyroc weapon by heart. It was a heavier weapon than anything a civilian could easily own. A gyroc fired a self contained rocket propelled round it was heavy duty firepower, considering the conventional caliber of the thing put it at a 15mm round with a miniature armor piercing explosive round and enough propellant to drive the shell out to almost two kilometers in atmosphere. The weapon was considered a valid threat to Marine Armor if you fired enough rounds at it. Of course, the standard Marine armor could use microwave countermeasures to detonate the round before it got too close…but with a few dozen flying at you, they got through. Hall held up the heavy rifle and examined it. It was a bolter…much like the crossbow was a simple weapon that could kill a knight in medieval Europe, a gyroc could hit a marine hard.

"Nasty…very nasty." Hall said.

"Oh yeah, best for last sarge." Yin said and held up the final weapon in his tendrils, Hall's eyes opening in shock.

"That's a lasgun." He said unnecessarily, looking at the matte black casing around the weapon. According to his suit AI, the weapon was a IDA Laser Rifle, Mk. IV. The weapon was one of the more common laser weapon designs that was mass produced in Alliance Space, although it was strictly regulated. It was legally only available for private military contractors, major security firms and law enforcement agencies. The lasgun could pinch through most civilian body armor and in volume knock a hole in most vehicle armor plating. Hall held up the weapon, turning it over in his gauntlets.

"How the hell did they get all this?" Yin asked, looking at the weapons that had been hidden in storage crates. Hall shook his head, knowing that the Security Service would be going nuts over this find, and the Citadel crew would be interrogated at length…and Hall had no doubts it would be an unpleasant experience.

* * *

**Arcturus Station, Systems Alliance Security Service HQ, July 15****th**** 2163**

The information was not good, but no one had expected things to go well…or quietly. Six years of relative peace had been quiet on the surface, but the Citadel Council viewed the Systems Alliance as something other than a friend or even a neutral. Rival would be the best term to use…enemy would be a better one. Six years had given the Alliance Security Service countless threats to deal with. Some of them had been overt, others had been subtle. With the war with the Turians in the background, there had been numerous 'nationalist' movements whose fires had always smoldered since their joining of the Alliance. Most of them were little more than extremist organizations and racist fanatics who put out propaganda and attempted to make terrorist attacks. Since the end of the war with the Citadel, numerous shipments of weapons and equipment and been discretely supplied to them. Almost all of them had been military grade firearms shipped from manufacturers in Citadel space. Some of the weapons had come from Batarian groups…others…they had seemed to have simply materialized at the Alliance/Citadel border in cargo vessels that had never existed before that moment. The Security Service had little luck backtracking those shipments, but they had begun to increase the instances of terrorism and mass violence in the Alliance, something that did not please the Alliance's political leadership one bit.

Along with that, there were the thefts and incidents of smuggling. Normally they occurred in any society…but some of the break ins over the past six years had been immaculate in their preparation and planning. From covert entries into Sony and Microsoft, to massive raid assaults on IBM and USR facilities, the number of high profile crimes that had been carried out against Alliance Tech firms had increased substantially. Many of the criminals who'd carried out the attacks and thefts had been captured, but all of them had spoken of someone else choreographing their operations, coming in with the plans and assembling teams to carry out the break-ins. Interrogators had always pegged them as being humans…human women, who always kept themselves hidden for the most part. Others talked about instructions received over the 'net, funds sent by numbered accounts. All of it was subtle, and all of it seemed to be set up to keep a barrier between who wanted to learn things and who wanted to stay covert.

Overall no one could link together any of the incidents cohesively, except that the thefts and break-ins had all seemed to be geared towards gathering advanced technology. It wasn't something that could hold up in a court of law, but the investigators who'd looked at the reports had all agreed that the Citadel had to be behind them, simply because all of the events benefited the Citadel and hurt the Alliance. As to who was carrying out the incidents…most of those investigators were up in the air about that. Most fingers pointed to either the Salarian STG or the more infamous group who was directly in the employ of the Council itself….their Spectres.

To the Security Service, the Council Spectres seemed to be some kind of uber-spies who could move through the galaxy with unlimited authority, doing as they wished to ensure the 'stability of the galaxy'. According to the Citadel's own information on them, they were the most trusted and respected individuals in the Citadel, the Right Hand of the Council, beings tasked and trusted with power that was unrivaled…beings who were beyond the law in every way…at least within Council space. The Systems Alliance had made it clear that Council Spectres would be regarded as spies and subject to imprisonment or execution if they were found in Alliance Territory. The Citadel Council had protested, but they couldn't enforce a Treaty that the Alliance Parliament refused to acknowledge. So the Alliance Security Service had considered Spectres to be the top of their list of potential external threats…primarily because of one reason and one reason alone.

Spectres had unlimited authority, but their objectives and goals were primarily dictated by their own interpretation of what a 'threat to galactic stability' was. Spectres could do as they wished for the most part…and that meant that personal vendettas and grudges bled over into the professional world. That was something that the Alliance viewed nervously, because Council Spectres were made up of the Council species, it wasn't hard to think that there were some who used their position to further their own goals, or carry out vendettas against the Alliance. The Council had made it clear that they didn't condone any kinds of activities which harmed the Systems Alliance, it wasn't hard to think that if they happened to come upon some Alliance Technology from one of their operatives…they might be handing out a medal and not a reprimand.

The Security Service had spent the past six years working in concert with the Intelligence Service to come up with a plan to deal with the Council Spectres and keep track of the dangerous operatives. Because of the jurisdiction issues, the Security Service was a 'domestic' agency, tasked with protecting Alliance citizens on Alliance planets and on any spacecraft or station within the borders of the Alliance, while the Intelligence Service dealt with any activities that were beyond the Alliance's borders. This meant that counter intelligence was a matter for the Security Service, but spying was for the Intelligence Service. Council Spectres made those clear cult lines of jurisdiction hazy, like any organization before them, dealing with Spectres who would probably be first and foremost spies within the Alliance, the Security Service needed information on them, information that had to come from the Intelligence Service's 'operatives' and 'activities'.

Polite euphemisms for spies and espionage.

Between the two organizations, they suspected no less than twenty Spectres were operating covertly within Alliance Space, though their activities were unknown and the ability of the Security Service to make arrests was limited. The Intelligence Service had been compiling dossiers on known and suspected Spectres, spies on the Citadel making note of the public 'Initiations' in the Citadel Tower, while other Intelligence operatives went through everything from Citadel Pay scales, to Citadel News Interviews with candidates.

For now however, the orders of the 'Ghost Taskforce' (as the Spectre Tracking program had been dubbed) had simply been to track and observe possible Spectres. No orders had yet come down for them to attempt to apprehend one of the Council's elite operatives. Most of the select few who were a part of the taskforce knew that any kind of apprehension would more than likely be undertaken by local law enforcement, or possibly planetary security forces. In the most dangerous of situations, Alliance Marines would be used to eliminate a target…domestically. Externally however, the Intelligence Service was more than willing to cause 'accidents' to any Spectre who warranted such an incident.

In theory. But like life, theory and reality were extremely separate things. Spectres were good, exceptionally good. None of them had ever left anything close to a trace within Alliance Space, and many of the suspected operatives working in Alliance space would never do anything suspicious. Most would vanish, an 'event' would occur in Alliance Space, and then they would re-appear.

Six years of watching had rankled many in the taskforce, most of them examining the disparate and vague information that they had pieced together, looking at files pointing to who might have decided to carry out a robbery or an info-mine raid on a database, trying to figure out possible ways to counter the Spectre who might have undertaken a possible crime. They all knew that the only way they could counter the Spectres, and by extension the Citadels attempts at stealing Alliance Technology and destabilizing the Alliance would be to deal with the Spectre threat. Something that was easier said than done, and the subject of every planning meeting from first to most recent. Some wondered about the political motivations behind the passive actions that had been the default of Alliance Policy towards the Council. Most understood objectively why the Alliance didn't make more pointed actions against the Council's meddling…

Although, fostering rebellions, stealing technology, attempting to contact genocidal species, and making themselves generally poor neighbors, whether the Systems Alliance Security Service could prove it before a judge or not, the Council's lackeys were making trouble.

* * *

**Salarian STG Planning Meeting, Undisclosed Location within Citadel Space, August 21****st**** 2163**

"Outcomes are unpredictable. Our actions are not having desired results." One of the shadowed officers said, sitting around a simple table strewn with data-pads and flim- sheets, Salarian hands running over documents and holding information.

"Desired results are separate from intended outcomes. Alliance is unpredictable, they seem willing to accept civil unrest and disturbances. Protests, demonstrations, dissent, all are…acceptable to them, even desired." Another said, gesturing to a list of scrolling numbers.

"Desired? Nonsense! What government wants such diverse and angry dialogue among it's people?" The third asked. The first shrugged slightly in his half-lit chair.

"Most information describes it as being…normal. Such as it is, the Aslan, Vargr and Human political systems are highly acrimonious and standoffish. But the reactions are tempered somewhat by a history of such things." The First explained.

"That is…unfortunate. Forcing the species apart will not be easy, will it?" The Second asked.

"No, it will not." First responded.

"What of the attempt to investigate the…Reticulan Quarantine Zone?" Third asked, his head bowed and looking at a data slate.

"Ineffectual. Our probe was lost completely and captured by the Garrison forces. Must rely on Alliance information about Reticulan Threat for the moment." Second answered.

"Rely on _Alliance_ data? Preposterous, more than likely it is propaganda designed to hide the truth." Third snapped.

"If it were, the Humans made a case for the lie over a century prior, and have tied up substantial resources continuing a lie. It is illogical." First said quietly, and Third sighed.

"_That_ seems to describe these creatures quite succinctly." Third said with a grumble.

"Such as it is, our attempts to find a way to manipulate their systems are not progressing as we had hoped." Second said.

"No, they are not. What of the large numbers of reported thefts of technology taking place within their territory?" First asked.

"Unknown, many of the raids have the hallmarks of special operations units." Second said.

"Yes…that is…curious. The STG has not undertaken any kind of overt actions, but then such attacks lack a subtlety that is desired." First said looking at the shadowed forms of the other two officers sitting there. All three knew that the Special Tasks Group was formed up so that no one cell knew too much about any operations that were ongoing. IT was good for security, but certain orders did get filtered down to all groups, and for now, the STG was to avoid drawing attention or ire from the Alliance. That made things difficult when they were simultaneously given the order to probe the political and social systems in the Alliance. The STG was supposed to find possible ways to 'compel' the Alliance member races to fracture from their central government. A request from the Citadel Council that hadn't been well received by the STG. They knew the inherent risks to that kind of activity, and the Alliance had shown themselves to be extremely capable militarily, capable enough to hammer the Turian Hierarchy's forces back…and the threat of the Turian Hierarchy coming in on the side of the Union had been a reality for a long time.

But now the STG had been instructed to undertake possibly grave actions against a Galactic Power that had swept aside the Turian Hierarchy in what could have escalated to a full scale war. Not for the first time, all three members at the table thought heavily on what might happen if the Systems Alliance discovered it…and decided to do something about it. All three wished the same thing more or less…that the Spectre who had delivered the Council's instructions hadn't chosen them…youngest Turian Spectre ever inducted or not, favorite operative of the council or not…that Arterius had made every one of them wish that he had never crossed their paths.

* * *

**Arcturus Station, September 15****th****, 2163**

"Madame President, I'm sorry to say that we cannot prove any of the allegations that have been put forward by the Ghost Taskforce. There isn't any evidence that we can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that Council Spectres are involved in any of the incidents that we've been experiencing. But the sheer lack of a trail into Council Space, even when all signs point in that direction make it seem abundantly clear that person or persons unknown are orchestrating these activities." Director Tanner said calmly, sitting across from the President. Trindle sighed and looked at the data once more, the entire thinking on the issue was that if someone is being too quiet, they were up to something…and when it came to Interstellar Statecraft, it tended to hold true. The Citadel Council was being openly dismissive of the Alliance, and it's operatives had been going to exhaustive lengths to try and keep away from Alliance Territory.

But the data was clear, numerous tech break-ins, political incidents and terrorism incidents had all taken place with each group of suspects stating that their 'backer' or 'sponsor' had been from Citadel Space, sometimes it was a female, most likely Asari…but in a few incidents, the suspects had pointed the finger squarely at what they swore was a Turian. But other than knowing that, there was little to go on. No names, only theories from the Ghost Taskforce's members that when laid out seemed to theorize that just about _any_ of the Council's Spectres could be 'the one'. Trindle sighed softly, she had known that the icy political situation with the Council wouldn't be easily improved…from the Alliance's adamant refusal to share technology with the Council that could 'threaten Alliance Security' to the rapid growth of Alliance commercial ventures into Citadel space…even the growth and rebuilding of the Alliance Navy, Army and Marines in the wake of the short and sharp conflicts on Shanxi and Macedyn, it had all combined to make the Council feel threatened.

More than once the Council had stated it was 'strongly considering' economic sanctions against the Alliance and a possible trade embargo…but unfortunately for them, in six years, the corporate interests of the Alliance had aggressively worked to capture market-share in Council Space. Despite the refusal and borderline corporate warfare that the resident conglomerates had held…the Alliance had grown strong enough that an Embargo would be felt more by the Citadel than by the Alliance. Trindle took refuge in that with a perverse sense of pride, politically the Council was icy…but their credits were good for Alliance Corporations and businesses. Other political issues had raged over everything from Genetic Engineering to Synthetic Sentience and everything in between. There was no doubt that becoming a 'member race' within the Citadel would be an almost impossible objective for the Alliance, subverting all Alliance citizens to an external…dictatorship…wasn't even _legal_ according to the Alliance Constitution. But the resistance to that step was so strong from every facet of society in the Alliance that Trindle knew if she even suggested such an insane course of action she would be impeached…and probably put on trial for treason.

Trindle also knew that despite the cold distance the Citadel maintained, they were hungry for Alliance technology. The Council was entirely reliant on Prothean technology, their own advancement had remained more or less stagnant for millennia…while Alliance growth through it's member species had made it into a vibrant and dynamic economy with population growth that probably dwarfed the Citadel's species by several levels. The Council wanted that growth and strength…but they didn't want the political issues that came with it. There was only one concession that could possibly make the Alliance consider joining the Citadel…but to make them members f the Council would be unconscionable. Trindle had seen the reports about just why the Council would reject Alliance membership…fear…fear that their nice little oligarchy would crumble if faced with a government made up of multiple species who were equal and all on the same level.

They wanted it to be broken up and to have the Alliance members turn on each-other, attempts had been made by several 'unknown persons' to provoke political clashes. Even the possible attempt at causing an incident with the Reticulans…Trindle considered _that _one an act of war, but without proof, simply declaring war on the Citadel would be ludicrous. Whether that war could be won or not was a difficult matter of debate for the High Command as well.

"We've been too passive." Trindle said calmly, considering her options. She knew the state of the galaxy without having to check her data or have a Special National Intelligence brief done, without a doubt, the Citadel had the political initiative and Trindle wanted that taken back. With a slight nod to herself she knew just what buttons would need to be pushed to make the Council step back…and she ticked off their names in her head.

Batarians.

Quarians.

Krogan.

Geth.

Four species who had drawn the Council's ire in one way or another, four species who the Council considered to be 'dealt with'. The Council had decided that the Alliance policy towards Reticulans was inappropriate, and the political system in the Alliance was wrong. Trindle smiled at the thought of just how easily it would be to shake the Citadel's nice and set idea of the Galaxy…and to remind them that you didn't need to use subterfuge to do what needed to be done. Sometimes you could do it in the light of day with the Galaxy watching.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Well, folks, two more chapters and the epilogue to go for this story, and I would like to officially sound out all of you for your input on an important matter. I'll be introducing our Hero later on, and I would very much like to know just what the consensus or thinking on how Shepard will be portrayed. Specifically, Cannon appearance, or custom appearance. I will be making Shepard Male, and I will be creating my own degree of Bad-ass for him…but I just want to know whether having a Cannon (generally generic handsome/tough-guy with a shaved head and stubble) face is preferred over…well…my own original Shepard's look.**

**I'm leaning heavily towards my own Shepard, but…this story has become very popular, the most popular one I've ever written, so I would prefer to differ to the fans of my work and give you something that we can all agree on.**

**So, let me know what you're all thinking.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Well folks, moving onto the next bit a LOT faster. Glad for all the feedback I'm getting. At the moment I'm feeling rather up in the air about original Shep or my own Shep. But don't worry, he will be a human. And don't worry…he will be a…unique individual when it comes to personality, and he'll have a different beginning.**

* * *

**Systems Alliance Embassy, Zakera Ward, the Citadel, December 19****th****, 2163**

The essence of politics is to be able to sit down smile and pretend you've been lifelong friends with someone who in all honesty, you'd probably avoid if you were a real person. Such was the history of politics in _any_ species, no matter how long you've been capable of reason. Of course, there are always some exceptions, people who didn't follow the rules of civility, or tended to think that 'honesty' was the best policy, and of course they always made things 'interesting' when you negotiated with them. Asari, Salarians, even the Turians, they understood that you had to pretend to be civil even when you were disdainful…and they were _quite _disdainful towards the Systems Alliance. Officially they were simply another organization that was lumped in with the Terminus Systems, another one of those species who simply refused to be a part of the 'enlightened' and 'civilized' galaxy. That was the official standpoint at least, since they didn't grant membership status to the Alliance, the Citadel didn't recognize the embassy in Zakera as such.

That was suitable for the most part, since the Alliance had noticed the Citadel's rather disappointing 'misuse' of normal terminology. The lesser races within the Citadel didn't make any distinctions for the Systems Alliance however, Ambassador Sykes was referred to as an ambassador by the lesser members of the Citadel, instead of being referred to as an 'emissary' by the Council. Ambassadors for the minor Citadel species were more than willing to attend banquets and other parties hosted by the latest arrivals to the Citadel, and even sought out Sykes for certain official discussions when it came to trade. But Sykes and his embassy staff had repeatedly avoided making prominent negotiations with members of the Citadel, no major treaties or summits, or publicly politicized agreements. It was mostly discrete and under the table meetings over issues, an unspoken courtesy to the Citadel Council that was worth far more than it should be. Sykes and his DCM Min-tra knew enough that any kind of public meeting with _any _Citadel Ambassador would send shockwaves through the Citadel Council's nice and firm stranglehold on galactic politics.

Without a doubt, Sykes relished the thought of what he was about to undertake.

Sykes sat behind the large desk in his office, his eyes going over the data slate that held the press release, checking it once more for possible revisions before finally setting it down and nodding to himself. The human Ambassador was about to flex his political muscles and send a message to the Council that he was sure the entire State Department had been dying to send for six years. Sykes didn't know all the details about why the President had changed her policies towards the Citadel, but he knew that they would have had to do something _exceptionally _insulting or flagrantly violate Alliance Sovereignty to make the normally calm woman take such an adversarial position. Sykes knew that much of the Alliance Parliament had wished to adopt a 'live and let live' mentality for the Citadel. With the end of the war and the expansion of Alliance economic interests, conflict with the Citadel wasn't a major issue, especially since most Alliance colonial expansion was into areas that the Council had not technically claimed, nor were they a threat to any other galactic powers.

Except for the Skyllian Verge. That territory had been 'awarded' to the Alliance as reparations for the war…but many members of the High Command had seen the concession as a threat to Alliance Military commitments. IT was a large area, and it was distanced from the heart of Alliance territory and the Homeworlds by a significant margin, a margin that would take Mass Relay travel to bridge. Commissioning a separate fleet to cover that area would take at least five years, and until then, the bulk of the Alliance Navy would be weakened and spread out trying to explore, colonize and patrol such a vast span of the galaxy. So far, there hadn't been any colonization efforts undertaken in the territory, considering the lucrative prospects available, it had been a miracle that no secret ventures had made it there yet without Naval escort.

But that wasn't the major problem…the weakening of the Navy was a hurdle to expansion, but not a barrier to it. The true reason the Alliance hadn't begun colonization was because of the Species already present there. The Batarians had repeatedly claimed the Skyllian Verge as their own territory, and they had numerous…issues…with the Citadel Council over it. The massive diplomatic protest after the Citadel ceded control of the Verge to the Alliance as war reparations had set the tone for the diplomatic relationship between the two powers. Sykes had made the effort to at least be neutral with the Batarian Ambassador, but Janm Ki-drak had been diplomatically cold over the Alliance's refusal to discuss the issues. Sykes had done what he could, of course, but Ambassador Ki-drak's primary concern was to get a resolution on the contested territory. The two ambassadors had quietly discussed the matters, and Sykes hadn't brought up and protests over continued Batarian colonization of the Verge.

It was a delicate balance, Ambassador Ki-drak had kept pushing for something more significant…and Sykes had been nebulous enough…and distanced enough over the issue to keep his Batarian opposite number from making to drastic a decision.

Until now.

"Ambassador, are you ready?" Min-tra said from her place at the doorway to the office. He nodded and rose. He was dressed in Armani, slate gray with a red tie, a small Alliance pin on his lapel. He sighed and nodded, the gravity of the political game he was about to play very heavy on his shoulders as he walked across the room, Min-tra opening the door for him, her slowly flicking tail showing him she was just as absorbed by the weight of what they were about to do as he was. Min-tra had reacted to the State Departments instructions with disbelief, but she understood that she had to do what she had to do. The Aslan had set up the requisite meetings and this press conference was the first step. The pair walked through the upper levels of the Embassy, reaching the main elevator and stepping inside, they rode both down to the main lobby level. Sykes closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the elevator reached the main level and the doors opened. The main lobby was filled with reporters, primarily from Alliance networks like CNN, Fox, SkyNews and others, but in addition to that were Citadel News and various Citadel member networks that provided news to Asari, Salarian and Turian worlds exclusively. Sykes suppressed his smile at that political coup, as he left the elevator he heard shouts of questions from many of the reporters.

"Ambassador! Are the rumors of a policy shift in Alliance treatment of Interstellar Trade accurate?"

"Ambassador, what of the reports of a possible series of military exercises in the Shanxi System?"

"Emissary, how do you respond to allegations that Alliance Forces crossed the border and attacked several Asari Traders?"

"Emissary, can you comment on the rumors of a possible Citadel Embargo against Alliance Biological products?"

Sykes ignored the questions as he walked along behind the line of security operatives holding back the crowd of reporters. All of them seemed to have their own mini-cams and camera crews. Sykes walked through them and into the area that the press release had been set up for, the main press-room set up for the more dramatic displays was quite appropriate. Finished with heavy wood paneling and lit with brass chandeliers, it looked like a manor house. Stepping onto the raised stage, Sykes strode across the stage and stood behind the podium there. Looking out across the assembled reporters, he paused for dramatic effect, savoring the fact that Diplomacy, like all actions of politics were as much theater as they were practical.

"Good morning. Today, the Systems Alliance would like to announce that we will be inviting the Batarian Hegemony to meet and undertake a series of discussions over the status of the Skyllian Verge. This territory was given to the Systems Alliance as reparations for the unfortunate conflict between the Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy. Given the claims that have been made upon this territory by the Batarian Hegemony, and Asari, Turian, and Salarian Colonial ventures, the Systems Alliance has decided to meet and discuss matters with the Hegemony in the hopes that we will be able to reach an accord over the disputed territory. It is hoped that the Alliance and the Hegemony will be able to come to a mutually beneficial agreement between our two governments." Sykes said, reading off the short statement, before looking up and receiving questions. He gestured towards an Asari reporter for the first question.

"Emissary, the Systems Alliance has been quiet on the issue of the Skyllian Verge for some time. Why has the situation changed?" She asked quickly, the minicab behind her focused on Sykes' face.

"To be frank, the situation has been under consideration by the Administration for some time, and it has been felt that the matter should be resolved. That's why the Batarian Ambassador has been invited for discussions on the matter." Sykes said into the mic as the flashes of still imagers went off. He gestured to another reporter, this one a Vegan from CNN.

"Ambassador, just what do you expect to come out of these discussions?" He asked loudly.

"At the moment, nothing other than an open and full dialogue on the situation. It's a first step, and a very valuable one at that in my opinion." Sykes replied smoothly, another gesture, another reporter, this one a Salarian.

"Emissary, what is the Alliance's response to the rumors that expeditions are being mounted into the Perseus Veil?" The Salarian fired and Sykes forced himself to remain in control and not register surprise. Instead he managed a smile and a nod.

"I can't comment on that at the moment, but you do need to remember that the Alliance is exploring a galaxy that the Citadel has known for a very long time. There's a lot out there for us to find." Sykes said with a smile, dodging the question as best he could and making a note for the Intelligence Service that the Salarian reporter might have some ties to the Special Tasks Group. He gestured to another reporter, this one from an Alliance Network. The human asked her question quickly.

"Ambassador, will the Alliance strive for concessions from the Batarians?"

"I can't speak to that at the moment, the Batarians should hear about this before the media talks about it, don't you think?" Sykes said with a smile to several laughs from the assembled reporters. Min-tra stepped forward and leaned close to Sykes.

"They're here Ambassador." She said in a low voice and Sykes nodded.

"Ladies and Gentlebeings, the Batarian Ambassador is here, would you care to join me in welcoming him?" Sykes said, and before the assembled reporters could shift their places, he was off the raised stage and walking into the lobby, a wide pathway out through the expansive lobby and to the main entry. The front street had been cleared by C-Sec officers, and the hover limo that held Ambassador Ki-drak. An Alliance Marine in full dress uniform opened the door and saluted the tall Batarian Ambassador as he stepped from his vehicle, flashes and camera lights illuminating him as he looked around at the myriad reporters behind held at bay by C-Sec and Alliance security personnel. As he looked about, the other Alliance Marines in full dress Maroon stood to attention and saluted, while behind them, a Vargr playing on the bagpipes let out the chords of 'Ruffles and Flourishes' in the harsh skirl of the Marine's signature musical instrument. Sykes strode forward, smiling and holding out his hand in greeting to his Batarian opposite.

Ambassador Ki-drak was a canny political operator. The files on him by the Intelligence Service were extremely extensive, and without a doubt, the Batarian had earned his place on the Citadel by guile, cunning, and outright strength. Almost a head taller than an average human, Ki-drak was a striking sight, wearing long flowing diplomatic robes and looking around at the assembled reporters with semi-disdain, but knowing the value of smiling and shaking hands with Ambassador Sykes for the cameras. He bowed slightly to the human diplomat out of courtesy and Sykes returned the gesture, hands clasped tightly.

"I am honored to have been invited here to meet with you Ambassador Sykes. It is my fondest hope that the issues which have rested between our two peoples can be peacefully resolved and our peoples may move forward in the galaxy." Ki-drak said with a diplomatic smile…and the signature diplomatic melodrama that was ever present in negotiations. His voice was pitched high enough so that the assembled media could get prefect captures of his statement and so that their pundits and anchors could add their own analysis of them.

Although one piece of that announcement had been agreed upon before Ambassador Ki-drak had ever arrived at the Alliance Embassy. The use of the title 'ambassador' by an accredited and recognized Ambassador was something that hadn't happened. Every Citadel Race had used the term 'emissary' rather than 'ambassador' before this moment, in difference to the Citadel Council's stance that the Systems Alliance didn't have the same political presence as any member of the Citadel. It had taken some cajoling, but with the current Batarian stance and several border incidents with Turian patrols, Ambassador Ki-drak was more than willing to go along with the Alliance's request.

"It is a pleasure to receive you Ambassador. I know that my government has high hopes for our negotiations and without a doubt, we hope to end this dispute amicably and leave these discussions as friends. Too long has there been bad blood between our great nations because of misunderstandings and unfortunate difficulties." Ambassador Sykes said with a nod and a smile, his voice loud for the recorders as well. Sykes gestured for Ambassador Ki-drak to follow him inside, and the Batarian nodded. His gaze drifting across the Alliance embassy as they walked in through the main entrance.

"I trust that these negotiations will be fruitful Ambassador." Ki-drak said in a low voice to Ambassador Sykes. His human counterpart nodded and smiled.

"I can assure you Ambassador, that the Alliance desires a positive outcome from these negotiations. I've been empowered to negotiate on a number of points, the Batarian Hegemony will not be disappointed Ambassador." Sykes said quietly in reply. Ambassador Ki-drak looked back in surprise, his eyes drifting over Sykes for a moment.

"That is surprising Ambassador, you have been reluctant to do so before now." Ki-drak said suspiciously, and Sykes nodded gravely.

"Yes, it has been unfortunate that the situation we have been placed has necessitated a rather…long period of examination." Sykes said as the two reached the main elevators. Their small conversation was cut short and they turned to smile and nod at the reporters for the last time before they stepped inside and headed for the upper conference rooms. Once the doors slid shut Ki-drak replied.

"Yes, that has been unfortunate, the Hegemony has been incredibly patient on this matter Ambassador." Ki-drak said, his voice slightly clouded as he spoke. Sykes nodded in response and sighed softly.

"Ambassador, our Administration has been examining the concessions granted to us by the Citadel Council, it has been a fools bargain Ambassador, and the Citadel Council intended for our peoples to come into conflict." Sykes said as the elevator opened and he gestured form Ambassador Ki-drak to leave the elevator and walk to the conference room that was handling the negotiations. It was a simple room with two chairs separated by a low table, a pitcher of water and glasses sitting on it. About the only exceptional thing in the room was the beautiful view of the arm of Zakera Ward and the Citadel itself wheeling overhead. Sykes couldn't see the expression on Ki-drak's face as he walked in and sat down. Sykes took the other chair and sat, Ki-drak's aide entering the room and standing behind him as Min-tra did the same. The Batarian politician said nothing for a long moment before he finally opened his mouth and spoke.

"We suspected as much since the concession was announced Ambassador. The Citadel Council has been…disapproving of our actions for quite some time. Our culture and values offend them…but we have gone out of our way not to come into conflict with the Council members." Ki-drak said simply.

"Ah yes…the Annexation of Esan and the stand offs over Enael." Sykes said.

"Yes, Enael was a misunderstanding, but the colony of Esan was not considered a part of the Asari Republics and was fully independent." Ki-drak said defensively, his eyes narrowing.

"I understand that Ambassador, you have no need to defend your people to me. The only issue which the Alliance has with you is over the issue of slavery." Sykes said, holding up his hand slightly.

"If this meeting is simply over the System Alliance's unfounded and prejudiced problems with my people's culture, then this negotiation is pointless, and I shall take my leave." Ki-drak said harshly and began to rise. Theatrics of course…but enough to make Sykes suppress the urge to shift nervously before speaking.

"Calm yourself Ambassador, I merely state the obvious before we begin our discussions. The Systems Alliance has outlawed slavery, and I am sure that your people are well aware of the punishment for slaving in the Alliance, summary execution…without trial. That being said, the Alliance wishes to have a frank discussion over some matters. We both know that neither of our peoples are loved by the Citadel Council, and there is an old human saying, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'. It is best that our peoples be friends and not enemies." Sykes said and gestured for Ki-drak to keep his place. The Batarian did so, his expression guarded.

"The Hegemony watched the Alliance's victory in your conflict with the Citadel eagerly. I must admit, that seeing the Turian Hierarchy so pointedly defeated was well received by many Batarians. Our people are tired of being treated harshly at the hands of the Council." Ki-drak said.

"I can understand that sentiment Ambassador. Both our peoples have reason to distrust the Citadel, and the conclusions that both our governments have reached over the Skyllian Verge prove that we have good reasons for our distrust. If the Alliance had begun colonization of the Verge, I am sure that our peoples would have come into conflict…just as the Council wished." Sykes replied grimly.

"I must admit…the thought of our militaries coming into conflict does not fill me with want." The Batarian said with a sigh.

"Yes, such a conflict would benefit no one but the Citadel." Sykes replied.

"Yes…and I hope that your government proposes a way for that conflict to be avoided." Ki-drak asked.

"Ambassador, the Council wishes us to fight. The Systems Alliance believes that is something we should avoid. In that spirit, you understand that the people of the Alliance will not stomach the thought of making an agreement with a government who actively supports slavery. There need to be certain concessions made by the Hegemony before we can consider closer relations." Sykes said and knew that the scowl covering Ki-draks features would be expected.

"And you dictate to us! What do you expect us to do? Give up an intrinsic part of our caste system? Sacrifice our culture for your good graces?" Ki-drak said venomously. Sykes smiled slightly and nodded, making the Batarian Ambassador stop dead.

"Yes Ambassador, we do." He said simply, and Ki-drak was stunned into silence by the simple words and the surprisingly blunt message. Normally the Council completely ignored the Hegemony's issues of slavery, but the Alliance was willing to go after the problem straight on without hesitation.

"You…you dare…" Ki-drak managed shakily, his face a mixture of shock and rage.

"Ambassador, our 'good graces' mean a lot of things. For one, the Systems Alliance will, without question cede the Skyllian Verge to the Batarian Hegemony and relinquish all claims to the territory. In effect making it exclusively Batarian. A fair concession for this negotiation, do you agree?" Sykes said, and Ki-drak was silent again, considering the issues. He did not speak for quite some time, tapping his chin lightly with his hand, his four eyes boring into Ambassador Sykes as he considered things. It was a while before he spoke.

"What…do you propose Ambassador? I will hear your proposal…for now." Ki-drak said sounding generous.

"Thank you Ambassador. The Systems Alliance wishes for closer relations, but the Slavery issue is a sticking point. We both know that without a doubt, slave ownership has been on the decline within the Hegemony for the past five centuries. Even now, slavery is merely kept by the extremely wealthy as a sign of status and by corporations as cheap labor on off world endeavors. The Alliance proposes that a few symbolic gestures would do much to mitigate the situation to the point that the Alliance public would have no valid problems with your government…and your people would be compensated handsomely for the sacrifices." Sykes said, and noted the growing interest on Ki-drak's face. The intelligence had shown that Ki-drak didn't even own any slaves of his own, such ownership was beyond him, due to both his station and his income…even if he was an Ambassador.

"You are correct Ambassador, slave ownership is a symbolic aspect of our society…and many of the Slave traders throughout the Skyllian Verge and Terminus Systems are…unlicensed." Ki-drak said.

"Exactly Ambassador. I understand that the situation comes from pride, but if…_if_ we were to provide you with monetary compensation for large scale emancipation, and…technological opportunities for making slave labor illegal in industrial and agricultural pursuits. Maintenance of domestic servants as a symbol of status could continue provided certain legal protections were provided for them." Sykes said, smiling and looking at Ki-drak hopefully. The Batarian's features looked contemplative as he sat across from Sykes.

"Perhaps…what kind of…compensation and opportunities do you offer?" Ki-drak asked.

"Free and open trade between the Alliance and the Hegemony…trade with higher freedoms and better access to technology than the Citadel Races enjoy, including the possibility of weapons, starship, electronics and other scientific technology. Such an economic boon would also include the Alliance's technology for drone construction." Sykes said.

"Drone construction?" Ki-drak asked curiously.

"Yes Ambassador. USR, United States Robotics has numerous lines of construction and labor drones, all of them capable of fulfilling the tasks currently handled by slave labor. Without a doubt, the Hegemony understands that slave labor is unreliable…synthetic drones provide tireless, renewable workers who lack free will and will not be afflicted by morale issues. No uprisings or revolts, no worries over food, clothing, housing or medical care to maintain peak performance…simply a tireless labor force which would require maintenance, but which can be handled by other drones." Sykes said and Ki-drak looked at the Human curiously.

"Such technology would be a great boon…but we would be making ourselves slaves to your technology." Ki-drak replied.

"USR is willing to provide full construction schematics and build several construction facilities in Batarian Space, all subsidized by the Systems Alliance as a gesture of good faith. Corporate issues necessitate a certain degree of trade and payment to be undertaken, but the most recent quotes by USR place multipurpose drones at 10,000 credits each, a notable margin cheaper than the average market price of an unskilled slave." Sykes supplied readily.

"You are…generous…" Ki-drak replied before lapsing into silence. The Batarian Ambassador was mulling over the proposal in his mind, knowing just what might come of it…and just what might happen to him if he accepted it.

"Yes Ambassador, it is. You'd be gaining a strategic advantage by simply transferring to a more productive economic system. You'll be paid for doing it, gain a series of advantages that the other Citadel Species desire…and the Alliance and the Hegemony can forge closer relations and present a united front against the Citadel." Sykes said, and Ki-drak slowly nodded in response.

"I did not expect this Ambassador, any of this." Ki-drak said at last.

"No Ambassador, I didn't expect you would. But the Citadel Council wishes us to be foes, and my government does not think that is the best use of our resources. Does your Government think that it is?" Sykes said with a smile, and got the best answer that he could hope for.

"No Ambassador, the Hegemony has precious few friends in this galaxy, I hope that in the future, we can become them. I must speak with my government over these issues, but without a doubt, I feel that they will accept your proposals. We are an honorable people Ambassador, Citadel propaganda aside, our culture is different, but I feel not so different that we will not be able to set some unpleasant issues aside." Ki-drak said, and rose, his hand extending to grasp Sykes'…a smile crossing the Batarian's face that had nothing to do with politics.

* * *

**The Citadel Tower, December 23****rd****, 2163**

"_In a startling announcement today, the Systems Alliance has ceded control of the Skyllian Verge to the Batarian Hegemony. In a joint release, the Alliance and Batarian representatives have stated that they have finally resolved their border disputes and are looking forward to warm relations. In another surprising announcement, the Alliance has stated that the Batarian Hegemony will be the first galactic power to receive a trade deal giving them access to various aspects of Alliance technology. No details have been released as of yet as to what technology the Hegemony will be granted access too. But without a doubt, this development has been met with concern by the Citadel Council."_

Matriarch Tevos watched the report with a dark expression on her face. Neither she nor her guest relished the report that was being broadcast on the vid. She sat in her luxurious apartment within the Citadel Tower and snarled at the screen, not bothering to address Matriarch Seraya as she sat watching. A personal friend of the Asari ambassador who had negotiated the peace accord with the Alliance, the two had been having dinner and discussing the possibilities of the Alliance and Batarian negotiations…and the surprising lack of any intelligence reports on what it was about, when they had been given a more pointed briefing from the Citadel News Network than the Salarian Special Tasks Group had managed. They let the vid play for a few moments before Tevos turned it off in disgust.

"It would seem that your plan backfired Seraya." Tevos said grimly from where she sat. The other Matriarch sighed and shook her head.

"Yes, it would seem that matters have gone contrary to that which we wished. I had been concerned about the prospect of the Alliance and Hegemony negotiating, but I feel that they both realized just what I had intended.

"So it would seem Seraya. So it would seem. I do not like the thought of the Batarians receiving technology from the Systems Alliance, or having any kind of positive relations with them." Tevos said with a snarl, raising her glass to her lips and draining it.

"I know you don't like them after their annexation of Esan…" Seraya said quietly.

"I _despise_ them Seraya, and you know it! That's the only reason I accepted your idea. The Alliance was going to crush the Batarians and keep their own fleet tied up in the Verge." Tevos snapped, she was far from the calm and rational diplomat that she presented in the Council meetings. The Asari Matriarch was outraged and without a doubt, she wished to do more against the upstart Alliance…

"Calm yourself Tevos, calm yourself. Do not think in such short terms as this." Seraya said soothingly. The Councilor looked at her and sighed.

"You are right…but for the moment…things will not go well for the Council." Tevos replied.

"Not go well? We shall have to see how they go. For the moment, calm yourself and enjoy dinner." Seraya said, but she knew that no matter what she said or did, Tevos' mind would be fixed on the Alliance and their relations with the Batarians.

* * *

**Relay 841, Citadel Space, January 19****th**** 2164**

The SSV _Ticonderoga _sat in space by the Relay, waiting. The stealth Frigate was like most other vessels of it's class, a broad arrowhead design, will armed, maneuverable and dangerous to a foe larger than it, the ship had been using it's cloak to sneak deep into Citadel Space. So far they had been undetected, and that suited her captain, crew, and lone passenger quite well. Ambassador Jiv-nar was a veteran at negotiations, and was well known within the State department for her negotiation of the peace accords with the Citadel. She had received the assignment of making first contact with the Quarian Migrant fleet and proposing a deal with them. Although the Aslan Ambassador was honored that she was considered the 'best', she was curious at the motivations behind her orders…but she had her orders and her objectives. Which was why she was standing on the bridge of a stealth Frigate looking at a Mass Relay, waiting for the Migrant fleet to begin passing through. The Intelligence Service had provided the details on the Migrant Fleet and given a suspected course for the rag-tag armada of vessels.

The State Department had given a good outline of what they were supposed to attempt, and the Navy had outlined their plan…sit and wait…

…Jiv-nar was not the kind of female who enjoyed sitting and waiting.

But she had done so, for a week now…she had patiently waited, reading and re-reading her briefing information on the Migrant Fleet, and going over the Intelligence reports on Quarians, from what the Citadel said about them…but that file was not filled with too many nice comments. Jiv-nar knew that if she believed half of it, the Quarians were one of the most horrible species in civilized space, a bunch of thieving poor drifters who lied, cheated and stole from every system they passed through. They had created the Geth, a horrible scourge of the galaxy -which to Jiv-nar's chagrin had never shown themselves to the galaxy after taking over the Quarian homeworld-…and seemed to be generally terrible people. Of course, according to the Citadel the Alliance were a pack of xenophobic imperialists…so, she was taking her information with a grain of salt.

Jiv-nar sat on the bridge of the _Ticonderoga_, her data slate in her paws, eyes slowly drifting across it, reading her reports and waiting. The Bridge crew was maintaining their standard routine while the ship 'ran silent' using only minimal energy for sensors and cloak. Only minimal staff were seated at their consoles as Jiv-nar waited along with them. For them, it was their job, and they did it with the precision and skill that the Alliance Navy was famous for. But for a State Department Diplomat, you could only be so patient for so long.

"So Ambassador, I hope our ship isn't getting too small for you." Captain Op-trq-Yan said with a Vegan chuckle as he entered the bridge. Jiv-nar looked up and gave a softly purring laugh.

"Not yet Captain no. I hope your crew isn't too displeased that they're sneaking around in Citadel Space." Jiv-nar replied as the Vegan captain took his command chair and checked the duty log while the Ambassador sipped at her coffee.

"They relish it Ambassador, it's not often that we get to test our mettle against the Citadel's patrol fleets. Besides, the Navy really likes when we have an excuse to play with our toys." Captain Yan said, his tendrils tapping a few controls and then turning his gaze to look at the main tactical display. The veteran Vegan Captain had earned his rank during the conflict with the Citadel and harbored no love for them…but he had also been one of many officers to study the Quarian Migrant Fleet as a potential hostile aggressor and was well versed on the Quarian navy. Although no Alliance contact with the Quarians had been undertaken, Captain Yan was one of the few to examine the people at length outside of the State Department's Quarian Section…useful to have, even if a military mind worked differently than a diplomat's.

"Good to know you're having fun with your toys Captain." Jiv-nar said with a smile. After a week, the civil humor was somewhat forced, but sometimes, you faked it when you had to.

"Well Ambassador, if the Migrant fleet doesn't appear within the day, I propose we attempt to locate another Mass Relay they might use." Captain Yan said, some of his forced humor bleeding off and sounding far more businesslike than a few moments before. Jiv-nar nodded in response.

"I believe that we may have to Captain. But our mission is to contact the Migrant Fleet and the Quarian Conclave. We would have to seek out another relay or begin actively searching for the Migrant Fleet. I think that our best bet is to remain here Captain, the Intelligence Service has been providing good information." Jiv-nar replied.

"Yes they have Ambassador, but we cannot simply linger here forever. The Migrant Fleet is somewhere out there, and lying in wait for it is not the best use of our time." Captain Yan replied.

""Captain, the Mass Relay is activating to receive incoming vessels." The Sensor tech said calmly as his eyes remained glued to his display holo. With a few gestures he brought up the image on the main tactical display. Captain Yan and Ambassador Jiv-nar turned to look at the main display screen. No one was particularly excited over this information, numerous vessels had passed through this Relay while the _Ticonderoga _had been waiting. But as several vessels dropped out of FTL around the Relay, it was easy to see that they weren't ordinary ships.

"Vessel Types?" Captain Yan asked, leaning back into his command chair and tapping a few commands on his armrest, bringing up a smaller holo in front of him. Jiv-nar examined the information with the Captain.

"Types match…older model Turian vessels, mostly matching Turian designation of Frigate. Weapons systems are after market however, all ships are heavily armed. ID tags claim them to be Quarian." The Sensor officer answered.

"Good, it seems our waiting is over." Ambassador Jiv-nar said with a slight smile on her features. Captain Yan nodded and zoomed his display holo closer in on the vessels.

"Standard defensive screen, they're checking to make sure that the Relay is safe for the rest of the Fleet to move through the Relay. It takes months for the entire Migrant fleet to move through a Relay, and the Quarians are experts at moving the Flotilla safely through the network." Captain Yan said with a nod of his eye-hood.

"Well Captain, time to carry out our orders." Jiv-nar said and Captain Yan drew a deep breath before sighing. Quarians were migrants and vagabonds, but they were well armed and had twitchy trigger fingers when it came to defending the Migrant Fleet. You didn't sneak up on them unless you wanted them to start firing when they found you. Yan didn't doubt that finding a cloaked Alliance vessel appear in front of their picket line would result in more than a few surprised comments.

"Lower the cloak and Hail them." Captain Yan said calmly, not calling the ship to Battle Stations or ordering the shields to be raised. Doing so might be provocative, and he certainly didn't want that.

* * *

**QFV **_**Tonbay, **_**Quarian Migrant Fleet Scouting Vanguard**

The bridge of the Tonbay was a cramped affair. Like most Quarian vessels, the bridge was one of the few places aboard a ship that wasn't packed with the millions of refugees that made up the remnants of the Quarian people. One of the newer vessels in the Migrant fleet, the _Tonbay_ had started it's life in the Turian Navy before being mothballed after fifteen years of service and finally being decommissioned and sold for scrap. She had been bought by an enterprising Volus merchant and after changing hands several times, been snatched up by the Fleet at first chance. Not as well armed or as well maintained as she had been during her time in the Turian Fleet, the _Tonbay_ was still an excellent combat craft since the Turians knew how to build them. Lacking a Mass Accelerator however, she wasn't capable of going toe to toe with military ships of the line, but she was more than enough to deal with pirates and slavers that roamed the space lanes. But even her sturdy construction and weapons systems weren't the reason she was in the vanguard scouting fleet…the real reasons were her sensor arrays. Some of the best in the fleet, the _Tonbay_ had the good luck to have somehow drawn some of the best sensor techs after their Pilgrimages. The combined sensor staff made them capable of finding just about anything a system had to offer, from mineral resources and habitable worlds, to hidden starships and raiders.

However good the sensor staff was, they didn't quite know just what readings they were getting however, and as Calla'krass vas Tonbay pressed her faceplate close to the monitor holo, staring at the minute variations her equipment was reading. She rotated the hologram and then gazed at the flat panel display, tapping a few inputs as her partner continued to babble next to her.

"…so Calla, what do you think? Should I go to the Citadel on Pilgrimage? I've heard it's amazing to see, the Wards, the Presidium, just gorgeous…it would be so nice to see that since so few of our people get to see it." Sha'kroo nar Tonbay said, gesturing slightly as he talked, his visor looking around at the sensor readouts in front of him but not really seeing them. He was young, but he was close to the time when he would leave the Flotilla and make his journey alone. Calla was incredibly eager for the young male to make his journey so that his inane babble would _stop_. Like any Quarian she could filter out the background noise of having hundred living in a space so close that you couldn't spin with your arms out…but when someone just…kept…talking…

"Or maybe I'll go see that Systems Alliance group. I've heard a lot about them from the vids, do you think that they're really as dangerous as the Citadel News makes them out to be? I mean…the Turians attacked them at Shanxi, but I'm sure that they don't hate everyone like the Council says, right?" Sha babbled, his hand reaching out and idly turning his display holo. Calla sighed softly and touched her own controls, zooming in on a section of space and shifting the wavelength of her scanners for a few degrees. She was catching ion scatter off something out there, but none of her sensors were registering anything at the moment…odd. The veteran tech hit a few more controls and brought up a visual scan of the area of space. Wedged into a tiny box and surrounded by control panels, monitors, holos and barely able to breathe with someone else inside it unless you co-coordinated your inhaling and exhaling, Sha was _still managing_ to gesture widely.

"I've heard about their homeworld, well…one of their homeworlds…they're a bunch of different species you know, like the Citadel but not…it's this place called Earth. _Earth_, that's a pretty weird name…Earth, ear-th, ear-_th, ear_-th. Weird, wonder why they call it that, might as well just call the place dirt or something. But they say they've got these huge bodies of water there, simply _enormous, _they call them cakes. No…that's not right…cakes…makes…_lakes._ That's it! _Lakes._" Sha said, leaning back slightly and out of the cramped sensor bay to look into the bridge and at the command crew and then back in to glance over at Calla, not quite realizing that his partner was completely ignoring him.

Beside him, and now completely tuning him out without any kind of remorse, Calla zoomed in and shifted her sensor input again, her three digit hands turning the tuning knob slowly. Behind her faceplate her teeth were gritted and she was narrowing her eyes as the sensor wavelength shifted ever so slightly. She shifted the band and realized she'd expended all her passive options.

"Con, Sensors, I have unknown event at co-ordinates bearing 193/411/ 84 range one hundred kilometers." Calla called loudly, making Sha stop his babble and look at the screens, glancing over at Calla's quickly in surprise.

"Sensors, report event." Captain Raan asked from her command chair, looking at the display and examining the area of space where Calla had seen…something unusual.

"Unknown Captain, I've got a…feeling, I'm catching Ion scatter off of something that does not appear, request permission for active scanning." Calla said, her gaze still focused on the point in space she'd caught the Ion scatter. Normally that didn't occur unless you had a solid and heavily armored object in local space, and even then it required unusual energy modulations to occur. Not a natural phenomena by any stretch of the imagination.

"Aye sensors, two pulses. Communications, alert the squadron to the possible contact. Weapons, arm and ready." Captain Raan said calmly as her bridge crew followed her instructions to the letter. Inside the sensor bay, Calla and Sha examined the data and worked on readying the pulse at the right wavelength. Even though he babbled and got very easily distracted, Sha was an excellent tech and it would be a shame to lose him on one level.

On another…Calla relished the thought of _silence_.

"Pulse readied in the 9,000 kilohertz range, compensating for gravity distortion." Sha said.

"Set the second on an oscillating frequency between 50,000 and 30,000 kilohertz, if something is out there, I want a resonance feedback in the sensor readings. We need to get a return on something out there." Calla said.

"Aye. Pulse set, re-focusing passive array and setting thermal reading." Sha said professionally, shifting his screens and preparing for the possibility of an actual 'cooking' of the target's hull from the sensor pulses as it received and returned the energy wave. Stealth systems could break up the return of a sensor pulse, or absorb it, but thermal energy was something you could see like a torch in the darkness when you were in the cold of deep space. Even the shift of a single degree would set a starship apart from the infinite blackness around it.

"Pulse in three…two…one…_now._" Calla said and the energy emitters of the sensor array pulsed once, then again, sending out an energy wave that would carry on (theoretically) forever. As the two watched their screens, Calla saw a slight ripple in space on her screens and her fingers worked the control surfaces of her panel. Beside her, Sha kept his eyes on the monitor and tapped a replay command on his readout, playing over a second of data over and over, then hitting more controls, and dragging his fingers across the touch screen.

"I have contact, bearing 193/411/94 and closing! Range one hundred kilometers." Calla said, her eyes making out enough of a distortion that it had to be something constructed and operating under power.

"Thermal profile matches Systems Alliance ship classified as 'frigate'." Sha said calmly as he rotated the thermal profile, what looked like a 'splash' of dark paint on a black spaceship was all he had to work with, but he managed to make a positive track. Calla looked over at him and smiled behind her faceplate, reaching over and patting her younger partner on the shoulder for a moment.

"Good work kid." She said and turned back to her sensors, not noticing the doe eyed look that Sha's face got behind his own faceplate as she praised him, but didn't have time to say anything before the dark splash of paint turned into the arrowhead shape of an Alliance Frigate.

"Action stations! Alliance Vessel uncloaking off our prow." Captain Raan said, her eyes glued on the main display.

"No shields or weapons charging Captain!" Calla supplied looking at the energy readings.

"Vessel is hailing us Captain." The Communications officer said from his console.

"Open a channel."

"Done Captain."

"This is Captain Shala'Raan vas Tonbay of the Migrant Fleet, state your business here before we regard you as hostile." Captain Raan said forcefully as she looked out at the vicious looking ship hanging in space before her. No captain wished to take on an Alliance Frigate with another Frigate…anything short of a Cruiser and a few thousand kilometers of engagement distance was sure to result in a pyrrhic victory at best…Alliance ships were bigger, more heavily armed and much better armored than any other ships in the galaxy, the Turians had learned that lesson and they had ships to throw at the Alliance. The Migrant Fleet didn't.

"This is Captain Op-trq-Yan of the Systems Alliance Vessel SSV _Ticonderoga_, I mean you no harm. I have on board Ambassador Jiv-nar of the Alliance State Department. We are on a mission of peace." The truly alien form of the opposing Captain. More than one Quarian mind thought that a Vegan with it's eye-hood looked vaguely like a Geth. Captain Raan forced away that thought, knowing she was speaking to a living being…a living being in command of a combat vessel far stronger than her own.

"Greetings Captain. Just what is this mission of peace?" She asked coolly, noting the position of the other ships in the detachment, moving in close to surround the Alliance vessel, weapons at the ready.

"Hello Captain, I'm Ambassador Jiv-nar. The Systems Alliance wishes to extend an offer of friendship and more to the Quarian people." Another…strange alien said, her face filling the view screen. There was precious little to compare this alien to…and many of the crew was awestruck by the sight.

"Just what do you mean by friendship Ambassador?" Raan asked and the alien smiled slightly, showing quite a few vicious teeth that seemed perfect for ripping flesh from bones. Raan's eyes narrowed slightly, like any soldier, she didn't trust politicians…but this one seemed more predatory than most. The Quarian Captain knew the name, and knew that this was the female who'd negotiated with the Asari to end the war between the Systems Alliance and the Citadel Council. She was their best.

"Well Captain…I would prefer to discuss the matters with the Conclave if at all possible. But I can admit that the Alliance wishes to offer the Quarian People all the rights of the members of the Systems Alliance. Trade, protection, colonization and otherwise." Jiv-nar said, her voice smooth enough that it belied the import of the words she'd spoken.

The Systems Alliance was offering the Quarians a home.

* * *

**The Citadel, May 14****th**** 2164**

"_Today, the Citadel Council was informed by the Systems Alliance that in keeping with the signing of the Treaty of Wolf 359, that any and all Quarian pilgrims and citizens within Citadel space will be considered Citizens of the Systems Alliance. Quarians will be subject to Council laws in Council space, but all Quarians will be granted access to Alliance Consulates and Embassies throughout Citadel Space and are invited to come and receive passports and other documentation that properly identifies them as Alliance Citizens."_

Most of the patrons of Chora's Den didn't much give a damn about the Citadel News broadcast being played on the holo when they had Asari ass to stare at. But not everyone was as engrossed as a single Quarian sitting at the bar and watching the display, his suit's drinking tube slowly drawing in the Turian mixer he'd ordered. Sha had settled on Chora's den after a few transits through the more upscale clubs, but he could never get over the glances and stares of a Quarian trying to drink at the bar. Here, nobody really gave a damn, of course, you had to worry about getting stabbed, but a gun to the face would dissuade a drunk Turian from trying to gut you…that and a few lap dances from a couple of Asari if you didn't wanna use the gun. Sha wasn't swimming in credits, but he'd managed to grab a few steady credits working in a tech firm whose owners weren't as racist as others on the Citadel, but that probably had something to do with the firm being Alliance owned and staffed by Alliance races. They were a lot more generous than any Citadel Race too…Sha had more credits than he knew what to do with.

As he sat slurping his drink, he gazed at the screen amazed. When he left the Flotilla he was leaving a vagabond group of Quarians, wandering the galaxy…now…

"…now I've got an actual…nation? Whoa…" Sha murmured, slurping his drink. He smiled behind his faceplate at the thought. He loved the Fleet, but it felt more like a family than a nation…you fought for your family, you cared for them, you did everything that you could for them…but having a country, a real homeland?

"Damn…" He murmured. Beside him, a pair of Turians were bantering back and forth and Sha couldn't help but notice both of them look at him as the message played on the holo before the two started talking in what they must of thought were undertones, but they came across clear as day.

"If those bastards want the Quarians, they're welcome to 'em. They've been picking up strays all over, first snagging the Krogan for no reason, then accepting the Quarians…fine, they get all those dregs together and when they decide to declare war on us again, we can take 'em all." One said, his voice low and grumbling.

"Yeah, damn thieves, glad they took them out of the galaxy. That filth hasn't been worth anything since they made the Geth." The second one said, taking a large swig of his drink.

"Yeah, pity we didn't just wipe 'em out for making the Geth. They deserved it. Shoulda' kept 'em in one place and just destroyed their ships, made the galaxy a better place it would'a." The first said, his eyes drifting over the body of one of the Asari dancers walking by, her body swaying provocatively.

"Mhmm. Can't do it now though, they got the Alliance looking out for them. But they're no better than the damn Batarians. Tryin' to make friends with them and be buddies. Those slavers should just get chucked out of the Citadel, we don't have any use for 'em."

"Heh, yeah. Maybe they're gonna make slaves out of all the Quarians who run into the Alliance!"

"Serves 'em right! Quarians ain't good for much, neither are those Batarians. Making nice with them Alliance types is just the last straw."

"Get rid of 'em all, damn Batarians, worthless Quarians." The last word elicited a shove at Sha's shoulder from behind and he spilled his drink across the bar. Grumbling, he looked up. The babbling and innocent Sha of months before was long gone. When you were on your pilgrimage, you grew up fast, and when you spent your evenings in a place like Chora's Den, you toughened up quick.

"Worthless? At least I can stand up you barefaced drunk." Sha shot back at the Turian who'd shoved him.

"You little drifter! I outta slug you for that shit!" The second Turian said and found his drunk shouting drawing the attention of a pair of Batarians. Both of them stood over him, glaring down at him as he slouched across the bar, waving his fist at Sha.

"You should watch your mouth Turian." One of them said, his hand touching the grip of his pistol.

"Yes…it's not polite to curse at friends of ours." The second one said, leaning so that the assault rifle slung over his shoulder was clearly visible. Both of them wore the armor of the Black Legion, a Human-Batarian mercenary group that had sprung up with some 'encouragement' from the two governments. It held a lot of Alliance and Batarian ex-military types, and most of them were the kinds of soldiers who _liked_ fighting. The drunk Turians looked up and the one slouched on the bar blinked hard, his hand grabbing for his drink.

"None of your business Alliance lover." The more sober of the pair said gesturing with his fist. Around the bar, eyes were looking towards the altercation since most of the time you didn't see a pair of Batarians, a pair of Turians and a Quarian in an altercation. Most of the patrons were just looking at it as a bit of entertainment to enjoy between dancers, although a couple of them seemed to be debating coming in on one side or the other…but nobody wanted to tangle with Black Legion troopers. Unlike Blue Suns, or Eclipse or Blood Pack…Black Legion troopers were known for enjoying close combat…and both the Batarians had blades strapped to their hips and seemed coldly proficient in their use.

"Watch your mandibles Turian, they might get broke." The Batarian with the pistol snarled and Sha slowly stood up, backing away from the arm's reach distance he was sitting at and moving towards the exit. The more drunk of the two Turians who had shoved Sha moved to grab him, but the Batarian with the Assault rifle shoved him back down, sending the drunk sprawling onto the floor.

"Stay down skull face." The Batarian said, spitting out the common Turian insult in the Alliance with every ounce of disdain he could, then nodded to his partner, the two turned and walked out of the bar with Sha…perhaps the most unlikely trio leaving the Den together that _anyone _had ever seen. Once they were outside on the walkway, the three paused, Sha's hand on his pistol the Batarians tensed and waiting for either patrons, the two drunks, or some combination thereof to follow them…but after a few heartbeats, no one did.

"Thanks…" Sha said tentatively, looking at the Batarians. He'd heard stories about their kind, and none of it was very good, most of them seemed to be mercenaries, pirates or otherwise, not the kind of beings who'd help you out with a couple of drunk Turians.

"Anytime kid, not everybody out there likes our kind these days." The merc with the rifle said, smiling slightly.

"Though now it seems we're all scum by association…not that I much liked Turians before…or Quarians for that matter…" The one with the pistol added, sounding a little guilty about it but shrugging.

"No…can't say I thought much of Batarians before either…" Sha admitted.

"Yeah, galaxy is funny that way, innit?" Rifle chuckled and Sha smiled behind his mask.

"Well, yeah, a couple of years ago, I would have watched those Turians take a swing at you and laughed…but damn, I don't like them hating us all just because our people actually like the Alliance. They're still sore the Alliance Navy handed them their balls at Shanxi and Macedyn." Pistol said with an actual laugh.

"Gotta say…that was something that the Flotilla enjoyed hearing about." Sha admitted and Rifle nodded for them to leave the main entry of Chora's Den.

"Oh yeah, Mraz and me signed up with the 'official' Hegemony-Alliance merc group and you know what, the Alliance isn't that bad. They pay well, they actually care about their soldiers, and to be honest…you Quarians picked the right big brothers." Pistol…Mraz…said as they walked through the passages, glancing over their shoulders for any drunken pursuit.

"Mhmm, so you're on your…what do you call it? Pilgrimage?" Rifle asked.

"Yeah, been working for an Alliance firm to get some credits…but now since I'm an Alliance Citizen, I think I should probably see the Embassy. I'm Sha by the way." He said, offering his hand to the Batarians.

"Mraz. We're headed that way, might as well come with us, Citadel is dangerous these days if you have the wrong allegiance." Mraz said shaking Sha's delicate looking hand.

"Dram." The Batarian with the slung rifle said with a nod.

"So you guys are…Black Legion?" Sha said, looking over their armor curiously. Matte black adorned only with a strange looking melee weapon in white on the shoulder s of their armor, the motif was the same on the berets the pair wore, black with a white melee weapon on them. It was an intimidating suit of armor to look at, probably all the more so when someone was charging at you wearing the stuff. It didn't look like anything that the Citadel made, it was lighter and more intricately designed, with pouches and mag holders on it in convenient places. From the looks of the gear, it was well worn in combat.

"Yeah, like I said, good work. Only Alliance or Hegemony citizens can join up, no arrogant Turians in this outfit." Dram said with a smirk and Sha nodded.

"What about…Quarians?" Sha asked tentatively.

"Well kid, you're an Alliance Citizen now, so you could join. I don't think I've ever seen a Quarian running around, but I'd bet that they could come up with some armor that would fit." Mraz said and Dram blinked in surprise.

"Isn't that just…strange…" He muttered, thinking about the moment as they walked out of the Ward Access corridors and onto the 'streets' of Zakera. They could see the shape of the Alliance Embassy looming in the distance and the pair of Batarians waved a farewell to Sha…but not before handing over one of the small data-thumb drives with the info on the Black Legion.

"Tell 'em we sent you if you decide to check things out." Mraz said over his shoulder as the pair of Batarian mercenaries walked away into the streets of Zakera Ward, leaving Sha standing and looking at the Alliance Embassy and decided that there was no time like the present. He slowly began walking along the sidewalk. As Sha walked, he noticed the glares and glances from others as he passed by. He'd gotten used to it, and thought back to the Migrant Fleet and a sense of community and acceptance, not being glared at like an…outsider… If there was any doubt that he would be returning to the Flotilla after his pilgrimage was over, that banished it. He felt more at home with his own people, more at home among them than here on the 'cosmopolitan' and 'civilized' Citadel in the heart of the galaxy. Asari and Turians glaring at him, others avoiding him as he walked. At least on Omega, when people avoided you, it was because they were afraid, and if they disliked you, it was because you did something to warrant it. It was strange, the more civilized and cultured you became, the less peoples opinions of you had to do with you. Sha shook his head and for the first time wondered how his own society was going to change.

_That_ thought brought him to a halt on the sidewalk, his eyes looking down the long avenue to the fluttering Alliance Flag outside the Embassy…_his_ flag fluttering outside _his _people's embassy. That made him feel something inside that he hadn't ever really thought of in his entire life, probably something that Quarians hadn't thought about for several hundred years since they'd left Rannoch…national pride. He'd read a lot about the Alliance and it sounded like the kind of place that Sha wanted to be a part of…the kind of _nation_ he wanted to be a part of. The Citadel cared if you were on the Council or not, they cared who you were, they cared where you were from, they cared what species you were, and it didn't matter what you did or who you were, some things didn't change, some people were always certain things.

Asari were the diplomats.

Turians were the soldiers.

Salarians were the cunning ones.

Elcor were the big dumb slow ones.

Hanar were the polite ones.

Batarians were the criminals.

Quarians were the thieves.

So on and so forth…but…that wasn't true was it? Life wasn't like that, and trying to sort life out into a series of generalizations and specieist 'molds' was wrong. The Systems Alliance, they didn't do that. They had their groups, and it would have been easy to make generalizations about them too…

Humans were the impatient ones.

Vegans were the smart ones.

Aslan were the explorers.

Vargr were the chaotic ones.

Xenopus were the strong quiet ones.

Quarians…

Sha let his own train of thought falter and wonder about that. In Citadel Space, Quarians were viewed as thieves and drifters. General scum. But they wouldn't be a part of the Citadel, they'd make their own name and their own identity with the Alliance, because the Alliance didn't care about it, they weren't wrapped up in the past, they were eager to find the future and stake a claim to it. You could say whatever you liked about them, but if you ignored it, you were a fool. Sha had even heard that the Alliance allowed immigrants to become a part of their culture. The Council didn't speak about it, but Sha knew that there were Turians and Asari and Salarians who were moving into the Alliance because they had hopes for something better than what existed in the Citadel's government. And those were just the Council Races. No doubt there were millions who wanted to make their way to the Alliance…

Sha laughed softly to himself and started walking towards the embassy. Without a doubt, there was a peculiar irony that the civilized and powerful species within the Citadel had members eager to follow the 'lowliest' race of scavenging thieves in the galaxy. The young Quarian on pilgrimage laughed about that all the way to the Embassy.

* * *

**The Citadel, September 9****th****, 2164**

"Councilor, I simply cannot condone your outburst. If you honestly speak of free and open relations within the galaxy, then I am sure you cannot truly argue against our meetings with the System Alliance Ambassador. Ambassador Sykes has been most gracious in our discussions, and I must frown on your display." Ambassador Chieva said with her voice as smooth as silk. She sat across the round table from Matriarch Tevos, her aides sitting along side of her, taking notes and quietly minding their place as their superior did the talking with the Citadel Councilor who seemed to be on the verge of screaming across the table. Ambassador Chieva was a calm woman, as befitted her station and appointment as an ambassador on the Galactic stage. But like any Drow, she was a calm and cool person. Her dark skin was smooth as polished ebony, her white hair was elegantly arrayed and plaited to hang down her back, and her long pointed ears were adorned with simple gold above her elegant robes. The Ambassadors piercing violet gaze locked with the almost fiery look from the Matriarch sitting across from her. Tevos seemed to control herself after a moment and sighed.

"You must understand my agitation Ambassador. Your information is not well received, you are negotiating with membership in the ranks of a secondary power whose sovereignty does not hold the same weight of history and civilization as the Citadel. It is a step that concerns me greatly Ambassador, because I feel that it merely weakens you. The government of the Citadel has been in effect for over two thousand years. That weight of history alone places it beyond the so called 'Alliance'. It is merely a regional power of little consequence." Tevos said dismissively with a wave of her hand. Ambassador Chieva leaned slightly to one side and tapped her long fingers on the table as she pondered the statement.

"Ambassador, the Drow Federation is an independent state, our representatives have been freely elected, and our society is free to carry out discussions with any galactic power we so chose. I must remind you that our first contact with your people came with our discovery of your starships within our territory. Ignorance of our borders aside, your ships refused to abide by the laws of our territory. The Systems Alliance has been immaculate in it's observance of our laws and borders, and their Ambassadors have spoken to us on the matters of trade and mutual dialogue, not membership." Chieva said calmly, her voice just as silky as ever.

"The Alliance has made a concerted attempt at snapping up smaller powers Ambassador, the Citadel-"

"…has merely stated that it's laws are to be obeyed by any and all galactic citizens, without any regard for the rights of the peoples they're imposed on." Ambassador Chieva said, politely interrupting the Matriarch. Tevos sighed in frustration.

"You sound much like Emissary Sykes and the Alliance leadership. If nations wish to be a part of the civilized galaxy, then they must abide by the laws of the civilized galaxy." Tevos said finally.

"Quite true Matriarch, but that 'civilized galaxy' of which you speak only includes your government, there are numerous powers other than the Systems Alliance which ignore your laws and adamantly refuse membership within your territory."

"Isolated groups, of which the Systems Alliance is simply the latest arrival. Their people will see the benefits of membership in the Citadel with the fullness of time."

"The fullness of time? And what does that mean Matriarch? IF the Alliance refuses to abide by your laws you will compel them to do so? If the Drow Federation desires to remain independent and free, will you compel us to become members of your 'civilization'?" Chieva said and Tevos paused for a few moments.

"The Citadel Council has never forced any people to become members." Tevos said, seemingly attempting to wave the question aside.

"Directly? No. But the matter of the War you so recently fought between your Turian Peacekeepers and the Systems Alliance? What would you consider that?"

"A misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding Matriarch? A very deadly one it would seem, and I believe one that has a precedent before it? There have been several 'peacekeeping' operations undertaken by the Turians against 'threats to galactic stability' throughout Citadel History, have there not? Not to mention your willingness to undertake extreme measures against members who displease you."

"If you are speaking of the Krogan and the Quarians, those are unique instances." Tevos snarled angrily.

"Unique? Of course, a species you uplifted to use as a weapon overstepped it's parameters due to your shortsighted actions and then you undertook a policy of genocide against them. An exceptionally unique circumstance. I rather feel like the Krogan will enjoy their states as an Alliance Territory and Alliance Citizenship far more than they ever did when they were your lackeys." Ambassador Chieva said calmly.

"Ambassador, we have been in discussions for weeks over the prospects of the Drow Federation accepting Citadel Laws. What has brought about this dramatic shift in your thinking? I can clearly remember that your people were extremely eager to join the Citadel when you first arrived."

"I make no excuse for my prior ignorance Matriarch, but my only regret is placing you under the misapprehension that we would become members of the Citadel. Your government system is not suitable for the Drow people and I would be remiss if we were to join your empire." Chieva said, and saw Tevos' strained patience crack slightly.

"That is a mistake Ambassador, a grave mistake." She said simply and Ambassador Chieva blinked and then smiled…the expression on her lips one of a Drow warrior-woman about to strike a killing blow. She shook her head slightly.

"A grave mistake Matriarch, I do not believe that the Citadel has any prior experience recognizing their mistakes. Oligarchs and tyrants have that shortcoming quite often." Chieva said viciously, rising from where she sat, her aides rising in unison. The twin lines of women fell in behind her as she left the room, not even allowing Tevos to comment on her words before the Drow Ambassador was out the door and walking through the Citadel Tower's lobby, cloak billowing out behind her, and her aides walking in perfect step with her. As the procession left the main lobby, they entered their limo and the craft lifted off quickly.

"Ambassador, the Citadel will not like this." Chieva's main aide Lillana said quietly.

"I know Lill, I know. But the Assemblage was clear. We would not commit to an agreement with any power that wouldn't give us control over our own laws or any kind of input into the government." Chieva said darkly and her aide nodded.

"I understand ambassador…but the Systems Alliance? Must we really join them?" Lillana asked sadly.

"We can't survive in this galaxy alone, as much as we might wish it, we must join one of the galactic powers. The Systems Alliance isn't perfect, but I must agree with the reports we've received about them. Everything we have found in studying their history and culture points to the same conclusion, that they are the best option available to us."

"A lack of options Ambassador…" Lillana began, but before she could finish her words the Ambassador nodded sharply and the young aide stopped speaking.

"I _know_ Lillana, I am fully aware that a lack of good options means we have none. We can remain independent, but I am certain that our position within the territory claimed by the Systems Alliance would make us a target for one of them, and while the Alliance is not a threat to us _yet_ that does not mean they will remain good neighbors forever. The Citadel is already hostile to us and the Alliance, the best thing we can do is join the Alliance and at least benefit from their economy and technology rather than stay independent…surrounded by greater galactic powers." Chieva said.

"But Ambassador…"

"We will maintain our freedom, our culture, our way of life, and our society if we join the Alliance, if we join the Citadel, we must march to their commands without question. Look at the Krogan, Lillana, they might not enjoy or understand the concept of being members of the Alliance, but they will benefit from being under it's protection, just as we shall. And with luck, we will have our own power within this Alliance, power enough to be respected."

"They are eager to have us Ambassador. There is that at least."

"True Lillana, very true. But sometimes one must wonder where that eager hope for our membership comes from. A young couple on the day of betrothal can wish it to be over for many reasons, both good and bad. I think the Alliance wishes our membership for good reasons…not bad. I fear that the Citadel does not care for what reasons that they entice us to join them."

"So we shall join the Alliance then Ambassador." Lillana said softly and Chieva merely nodded, the rest of the journey to the Alliance Embassy undertaken in silence.

* * *

**The Citadel, October 8****th**** 2164**

"_Today, the Drow Federation announced to the Galaxy that they would be submitting a petition to the Systems Alliance for permission to ratify the Alliance Constitution. This step would make the Drow Federation a member state within the Alliance and subject to all entitlements and privileges. The Federation voiced their preference for the Alliance's system of representative government and cited their reservations with the Citadel's position on a number of galactic issues and their views on Interstellar Law. Citadel spokesperson Jalik Mrat stated that 'while we cannot condone the actions of the Drow Federation, it is our fondest hope that in future, the Drow, and all members of the Alliance will consider themselves a power capable of standing on their own without having to subvert themselves to a dictatorial power'."_

"Well, at least Jalik read his lines properly." Tevos said angrily as she sat watching the holo display. Councilor Valern stood looking at the display, his face a mask an his voice silent. The Turian Councilor was not voicing his opinions at the moment, primarily because everyone knew just what was going through his mind, that the Systems Alliance needed to be destroyed now, before they could gain any strength. Councilor Anotus was the first one to speak, his Salarian mind racing, but his voice calm and collected.

"This situation does not bode well. IT is a public relations failure on our part of great proportions." He said and Tevos let out a soft laugh at the understatement.

"We just lost a potential member to the Citadel Anotus. Your understatement hardly states all the facts." Tevos said with a soft sigh.

"Yes, another power flocking to the Systems Alliance, not Quarian or Batarian or even Krogan, but a new arrival to the galactic stage. Such a loss is a grievous blow to our position." Valern said.

"I am aware Councilor, but there is not much that we can do to influence the outcome. The Citadel has no authority over the Systems Alliance. We can compel no membership in our government." Anotus said pointedly, and the holo was muted.

"No, we cannot, and to try would bring a war." Tevos said darkly, her mood cloudy from the holo news that gave life to her darkest fears.

"Better a war now than a war later." Valern pointed out.

"How so Councilor? Would you answer that please? How is fighting a war now good for any of our peoples?" Anotus responded sharply.

"If we fight them before they grow more powerful, we can defeat them."

"And if we lose? Do you think they will be such gracious victors as before? That we could pawn off on misunderstanding and over ambition, war now would be naked aggression. And we do not do that." Anotus said harshly.

"Shanxi was a mistake, but we would have won had your meddling not stopped us!" Valern replied.

"Enough, both of you." Tevos said with a snarl and the two Councilors sat, both of them glaring at one another.

"We cannot afford to fight them. Such a war would be disastrous and such a conflict could very likely provoke a response from the Terminus Systems, a two front war we cannot win. If we attack, we would be viewed by the galaxy as war mongers and not as the light of civilization. There will be no war." Anotus said harshly and Tevos glared at him, but said nothing.

"So if we are not going to wage war to stop these affronts to our position, then what will we do?" Valern replied.

"Nothing." Tevos said.

"Nothing? Now is not a time to joke." Valern responded.

"It is no joke Councilor, the Systems Alliance has not attacked us or challenged us. The Quarians were not members of the Citadel, neither were the Drow. The Krogan were occupied, we have no authority over any of them and we have no laws forbidding membership in other organizations after we have exiled a species. Nor are there any laws demanding species join the Citadel. They have done nothing which we can wage a war over, or even protest over." Councilor Tevos said.

"She is…correct." Anotus said begrudgingly.

"Then what do we do?" Valern replied.

"We wait, and prove ourselves to be the civilized leaders of the galaxy that we know ourselves to be. If the Alliance wishes to challenge us, then let them do so, but we will not descend to their level. We are superior to them, without question, and we will endure long after they have disbanded and their members come to the Citadel seeking the true superiority we offer." Tevos said, her voice filled with superiority, she knew her words were the truth, and like any Asari, she felt certain that she would be proven true in the end.

In the short term, the Alliance had won their own little victories…but with the fullness of time, they would fall and fragment, the Citadel would endure.

* * *

**A/N: I like to think I took a bit of a more realistic trend towards the Batarians. In the Cannon they feel almost cliché evil, no redeeming qualities, simply villains who come from the Ming the Merciless school of galactic politics take lessons from the Adolf Hitler school of statecraft and get their inspiration in business practices from the 'Captain Planet' villains. They just feel too well created as pure evil, slavery, terrorism, tyranny, and generally irredeemable. OF course, enemies you love to hate are great (Hence so many WWII games, everyone loves hating the Nazis because they were so over the top evil during the war) but it makes for poor characterization in something that is supposed to be so deep and reflective like Mass Effect. **

**I think that my concept of the Batarians viewing slavery much the same way that the American South viewed it prior to the War of Secession (American Civil War) is more…reasonable, as an economic system that was dying out and merely the providence of the rich, more a burden to the economy than a benefit. (Historical note, some of the loudest voices for slave emancipation in US History were **_**Southern**_** slave owners who wanted a reasonable reimbursement for their property and a way to give slaves freedom without dumping a mostly unskilled and mostly uneducated workforce into the economy.) And with that, the Batarians search for a more economical and logical solution to the slavery issue, clinging to it partly out of a lack of acceptable options, and because they feel it's their 'right' and no one but they should decide it.**

**So in essence I made the Batarians more like the Confederacy, backed into an economic and political corner by the Citadel instead of like Hitler's Germany or Tojo's Japan, despotic totalitarian regimes who have been the worlds closest examples of real evil. They're not great people, they have their flaws, but they're not 'moustache twirling evil', giving them a modicum of depth rather than the two dimensional and flat, 'YEAH! We are SO fucking EVIL and we are SO fucking proud of it!' portrayal in the Cannon, since their hostility to the Alliance stems from what is a deliberate manipulation by the Citadel Council.**

**I know that I glossed over the actual negotiations between the Alliance and the Quarian Conclave, and the Drow Federation, but I think that going into extreme detail over it would be a little ridiculous and yank things out of the tempo that I hoped to maintain with the story. So it was glossed, and I know there are a LOT of Quarian lovers out there (Yes, me included.) but this is a big chapter, and shoehorning in that would have made things drag out in my opinion. I decided to go with a balance rather than total flood.**

**The Drow are not D&D Dark Elves, but a rather obscure but delightful little story group that comes from the website 'Drowtales' and the slight off cannon story there called 'Space age', it's inspired by that, but they somewhat fit with my idea of having a new group there who the Citadel actually 'lose' the membership of to the Alliance since let's face it, Quarian, Krogan, Batarian, Geth, the Council could care less. But losing a potential member to the Alliance would be a slap in the face to the Council.**

**Plus...I am geeky enough that throwing in Space Elves was irresistible.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey there everyone, glad to see the feedback coming in for the last chapter and I'm reading all of it, I'm especially re-reading the somewhat negative reviews and comments on issues. Believe it or not, I do appreciate them and take the issues to heart when I consider my story. It is far to easy to go too far, to unbalance the Alliance and make them far too powerful, to minimize the Citadel and make them caricature villains. I am **_**very**_** interested in avoiding that outcome because 'humanity is awesome, we win!' stories are a dime a dozen on from countless Fan Universes from Halo to Star Wars and beyond (I've written one of them much to my shame…). If I'm going to make this as good a story as I want it to be, and as good a story you want to read, I need to stay grounded and within perspective, so Negative views are oddly well received by me…**

…**but that doesn't mean stopping the praise.**

**Anyway, I can understand the issues with the Drow, it may be somewhat of a wank issue (I needed a species to fill a particular role…and they ironically fit it)…if it can be called that, but they do serve an important aspect politically and culturally for me. Someone who doesn't trust the Alliance. And of course, they aren't the cannon Drow from D&D or from Drowtales where I received the idea to use them. The physical appearance is my main…draw from them, humanoid enough to be familiar -almost identical in fact-, but deep down, they are **_**alien. **_**Since they are closer to humans than the Asari are…but they are so vastly different culturally and psychologically.****I'll show more in this chapter.**

**Oh yes since it was brought up about me writing for Dragon Age II…or a possible re write, (that I might do…) I won't comment on it. Dragon Age II is an extremely divisive topic to anyone, fans or detractors. I'll just say I own it and have played it through, other than that, no comment.**

**There, anyway, on with the story.**

* * *

**New Rannoch, Systems Alliance Core Territories, November 19****th**** 2169**

New Rannoch was the second name for the Quarian homeworld given to them by the Systems Alliance. An Airless world that had been overlooked for colonization by most of the major nations, but host to a minor mining colony of the Vegans whose homeworld was fifteen parsecs from the system. Formerly identified by nothing more than an alphanumeric code denoting it's star type; RG, number of planets; 5, number of gas giants; 2, number of habitable worlds and class; 0N, and the number of asteroid belts and their thickness; 3E. To read the designation of RG520N3E didn't really tell you much about the system, New Rannoch wasn't the only planet in the system, but it boasted other airless rocks, gas giants and an extensive asteroid belt. It was a lifeless system, and for the most part it was useless to species more suited to air and gravity and who had hundreds of more promising colonization prospects available to them.

Although it wasn't without it's advantages. It was extremely rich in minerals and various resources, oil had even been detected on one of the worlds, leading Alliance Geologists to decide that the system had once possessed a thriving ecosystem on one of it's worlds…except it had suddenly died off millions of years ago, possibly in unison with the change of the system's star. That was of little consequence to the Quarians whose leaders had surveyed many uninhabited worlds within Alliance territory in their search for a new home. They needed a system that had prodigious amounts of natural resources and one that was devoid of native life. It suited the needs of the Quarians well enough…

Not that they claimed it was a home, for them it was a temporary system that they had mineral and colonization rights to. Even though New Rannoch was lifeless, it had minerals, and the Quarians had exceptionally lavish aid given to them by the Systems Alliance in the form of everything from tech to the most vital of all things, money. Combining the two meant that the Quarians had begun the construction of a massive series of habitation complexes and orbital stations around the system. Blessed with exclusive rights to mine as system and free of harassment, the Quarians had begun to draw enough resources with Xenopus labor that Quarians were actually _selling_ them on the open market…and they were beginning to churn out ships from their own orbital yards hanging high above the lifeless surface of New Rannoch. It was a change of pace that many Quarians resisted strongly…their culture was shaking with the transfer from a communal to capitalist economy after three hundred years of living in cramped starships and living hand to mouth. Protests and demonstrations…things that were unheard of during the years in the migrant fleet had become commonplace. The Conclave had been deeply divided, and the new Admiralty board was constantly questioning the decision of it's predecessors.

The Quality of living for every Quarian had increased dramatically, and the 17 million members of the Migrant Fleet who'd settled on New Rannoch five years before were experiencing a population boom that was unprecedented. Medicine, food, and luxuries that had been feverish dreams six years before were becoming commonplace. But many questioned what they had given and what they had gotten…and whether one was worth the other. Of the Conclave, many of the political leaders had their own opinions on what had happened, both good and bad, and they had begun to gravitate into two groups…two political parties…something _else_ that had been unheard of a few years before. The Admiralty board who had made the decision that had changed the lives of their entire people had never spoken on the matter, accepting their silence and resignation in peace and content in the knowledge that they had done the right thing.

Except for one of them. Only one Admiral had dared speak on the issue…and now his words were being broadcast around New Rannoch and the entirety of the Systems Alliance on CNN. Seated in CNN Headquarters in Atlanta, that Quarian was about to defend his actions for the first time.

"And we're back with Former Admiral Jon'Fallorn, late of the Quarian Admiralty board. Author of the tell all book '_No more forever wandering.' _About the Admiralty Board's decision to overrule the decision of their civilian leadership. Admiral, welcome." Anchorwoman Rel-yan said, her voice smooth as she sat across from Admiral Fallorn, it was an odd contrast, the elegant looking Aslan who could only be described as gorgeous sitting across from a Quarian fitted in an environmental suit he'd worn for most of his adult life. It was an odd sight, CNN rarely quibbled about that anymore these days, not after their first non-human anchorperson had been Jik'ran'tak, a Vegan who had revived a Walter Cronkite level of trust in the Media with his honest voice and non-partisan coverage. After almost 100 years, traditionally human professions and institutions had simply become 'Alliance' institutions, much the same way that 'male only' locations had become gender neutral. It simply was the way it was.

"Former Admiral ma'am. I relinquished my rank and position on the board when we made our decision." Fallorn said gravely.

"Yes, I understand…could you tell our viewers more about that to give us some understanding of the issue?" Rel-yan asked for the benefit of the cameras in the studio.

"Of course. Within the Migrant Fleet, there were two major governments, one was the Admiralty board and the other is the Conclave. In keeping with naval tradition, commanders of starships are considered to be in complete command. This tradition extended to the Admiralty board, a collection of our most senior fleet officers."

"Much like yourself."

"Yes ma'am, that was my honor to serve on the Admiralty board. But that was the military wing of our government. The civilian Conclave was made up of elected representatives from each of the ships of the fleet. For the most part, the Conclave handles the day to day aspects of life in the flotilla. They handle most major decisions on their own since they are the representatives of the people." Fallorn explained.

"Unless the Admiralty board overrules them."

"Yes, that is correct. In which case, the entire board resigns after they have overruled them. It's only happened five times in the history of the Flotilla. If they refuse, the navy places them under arrest, that ensures that it is only done in the most vital of situations."

"Which brings us to your book. Your Admiralty board was the fifth overrule, when you overruled the Conclave's decision to reject the Systems Alliance offers of assistance and citizenship...and then forced your people to become members of the Alliance."

"It's not quite as…stark as that ma'am. But…yes, the Admiralty board did overrule the Conclave's decision, yes." Fallorn said, his voice almost sounding ashamed for that kind of a decision, the helmet of his environmental suit dipped and he sighed softly.

"What was the original offer by the Systems Alliance to your Government?" Rel-yan said, pressing on with her live interview.

"Well ma'am, the original offer was one of citizenship, economic support, colonization rights, and general benefits of membership within the Systems Alliance, full representation within the Parliament, military protection. In exchange we would have had to ratify the Alliance Constitution, abide by it's restrictions and ensure that our policies and laws are in compliance with all other races and worlds. For the most part the Conclave was receptive of everything included in those offers, but they pressed for something that the Systems Alliance couldn't provide."

"And what was that criteria Admiral?"

"Rannoch."

"Your homeworld." Rel-yan explained for the camera.

"Yes. The Conclave was willing to accept all the terms offered by the systems Alliance without hesitation, but they wanted the Alliance Fleet to re-take Rannoch for them."

"Why wasn't the government willing to do that?"

"Well, for the most part, an invasion of former Quarian Territory would mean an advance across Batarian territory to the Perseus veil before an offensive could even be undertaken, even though the Alliance and the Hegemony are very friendly, Alliance High Command was unwilling to undertake a war of conquest into unknown territory and against an unknown foe. Of course, the Systems Alliance had offered to attempt to negotiate an armistice between the Flotilla and the Geth, but that was…not an option…" Fallorn said, his voice low.

"Why is that?"

"Over twenty billion Quarians died during the Geth War. Our culture and society was forever shattered by it, and we lost every world we'd colonized. Countless historical treasures and records were forever lost and we have spent almost three centuries wandering the stars. Our very bodies were altered by that time. _That_ kind of impact will not simply go away, and that kind of memory will forever cloud a people's thinking."

"Surely your people would be willing to move past that…"

"The Conclave was only willing to accept membership in the Systems Alliance if they brought their fleet to bear on the Geth. The Alliance refused, and the Conclave refused to join the Alliance because of that."

"And why did the Admiralty board overrule them?"

"Because we had been studying the Alliance for years. Primarily as a possible opponent, just as we studied every space faring power. We knew a great deal about their Navy and what we saw did not stack up well against…the…myth of the Systems Alliance Juggernaut." Fallorn said and Rel-yan looked confused.

"What do you mean? The Systems Alliance Navy managed to defeat the Citadel Council in the Shanxi War…"

"No, they managed to defeat a portion of the Turian Navy, not the entire Citadel Fleet, and not without superior odds. The Alliance Navy possessed a great deal of technological advantage over the Turians and they possessed surprise. But the entire Alliance Navy did not have the numbers to go up against the entire Turian fleet. With shifts in strategy and tactics, we've begun to see a change, but to maintain a war against the Geth, a massive expansion would be needed and the entire Alliance Navy would have to be committed into the Perseus Veil, leaving Alliance Territory undefended. That wasn't something that we could ask of the Alliance, and we knew they would never agree with it. The Alliance Fleet is powerful, but it has prior commitments. The Admiralty Board understood that fact far better than the Conclave did." Fallorn supplied.

"That's…surprising…"

"Don't worry, I'm not releasing any information that the Citadel doesn't already have, but Citadel Combat doctrine is radically different from Alliance Combat Doctrine, and Geth combat doctrine is a mystery to everyone, even the members of the Quarian Navy."

"But, your people created the Geth."

"Yes, but they have been evolving since then, like any people. There's no doubt that they have been constructing their own navy and deciding how to fight with it. There is no telling how large that fleet is, there is no telling how large their army is, there is no telling how extensive their defenses are. The galaxy is in the dark over the Geth, and the Systems Alliance even more so. They have attempted to contact them and been moderately successful, but the Geth are a synthetic life form, a…hive mind…a…different kind of consciousness. The Alliance defeated the Turians at Shanxi and Macedyn by accepting losses in exchange for closing the distance between fleets…and that battle was against an organic foe. There is no telling how dangerous the Geth would be after they created a dedicated military. So I can't blame the Alliance for refusing to invade for us."

"I see." Rel-yan said, sounding more comprehending than she felt.

"The Alliance wouldn't invade…but they didn't withdrawal any other offers. We were welcome to join the Alliance, would be given worlds for colonization and economic aid to settle. It was an excellent offer."

"But the Conclave refused it? Why?"

"Fanaticism." Fallorn sighed softly.

"What do you mean?" Rel-yan said.

"Simply put, three hundred years of focusing on two goals, survival, and reclaiming the homeworld…it's a pervasive cultural trait now. If you ask any quarian, they'll tell you that those are the only two things that matter. Survival of the fleet, and striving to reclaim Rannoch from the Geth. We all work together for that goal, we sacrifice everything for that goal, we live in cramped starships and wandered the galaxy with that goal sustaining us. It's the only hope and dream that we all have. If you grew up in that environment, you'd only care about sacrificing for the Flotilla and you'd be willing to die to retake Rannoch." Fallorn said.

"So…they were willing to continue wandering rather than accept a better offer?"

"Yes, the Conclave saw the issue in black and white. Either we got Rannoch back and the Geth were destroyed, or we would keep going. They voted to keep going." Fallorn said sadly.

"What made the Admiralty board decide to overrule their decision?" Rel-yan asked after a long pause to let Faller's words soak into the viewing audience.

"In three hundred years, the Quarian population has never exceeded eighteen million. We had zero population growth. We had no farmlands other than those on the life ships. No factories beyond those in tiny workshops crammed in starship bays. No research laboratories other than a few science ships that are packed with refugees. We had no capacity to produce ships, fuel, medical supplies, weapons or any kind of war material in the quantities you need to sustain any kind of conflict. We could survive only by living hand to mouth, only by constant sacrifice and hardship, we sent thousands of our own children off to scavenge what supplies they could and call it a pilgrimage…so many died or never returned. Our very bodies cannot survive beyond these suits, the simplest things can kill us now…disease and infection. Our fleet was made up of ships that are old cast offs from other species. Yes, we could do much to keep them running, but it wasn't an armada…it was the largest fleet in the galaxy…but it was little more than a meager collection of ancient and out-dated vessels." Fallorn said quietly.

Rel-yan said nothing as the Quarian cleared his throat and continued speaking.

"In three hundred years we were no closer to regaining our homeworld than we were on the first day our fleet limped away from Rannoch and left those that could not reach the evacuation transports to die. There was no way we could do anything other than survive. There was no species in the galaxy that wanted us. The Council refused to send us aid or render assistance. Every system we passed through rejected us, and we had to scavenge and take whatever we could that the rest of the galaxy didn't want. That was the life we had lived, and I cannot doubt that is the life we would have lived until the fleet could no longer sustain us. Until someone decided to attack or a plague occurred, or any one of a thousand possible things would have happened to us. The Systems Alliance offered us something that we needed, a homeworld. It's not Rannoch, it's not the dream of our ancestors, but it is what we _need_." Fallorn said, his voice growing impassioned as he spoke.

"So the Admiralty board decided to overrule the Conclave…"

"You make it sound so simple. The debate in the Admiralty board raged for days as the Ambassadors talked and argued, much like the debates that split the Conclave apart. Remember, those that wished to continue wandering and reject the Alliance offer were a majority, but not by a large margin."

"The traditionalists." Rel-yan supplied.

"Yes…the traditionalists…" Fallorn almost spat the words.

"Could you tell us more about them?"

"They seek to preserve our way of life. Joining the Alliance was viewed as a threat to the way things had always been. In a way they were right, but they sought to avoid change, to preserve things the way they were, and I cannot fault them for that. The old ways are dangerous…but comfortable. The only expectation is that things will be hard and any advantage we can gain is a windfall. But…their desire to preserve things as they were threatened our existence as a people. Our race was on the line, and standing in the past because we knew how it was would have resulted in our destruction."

"You truly believe that, don't you?" Rel-yan asked.

"Yes I do. I wish to re-take the homeworld and fulfill the hopes and dreams of our ancestors as much as any Quarian, but if we fought our war, we could lose…we might certainly lose. And even if we won, what would we win? A world, a single world…paid for with the blood of how many Quarian lives?"

"So the Admiralty board sided with the Futurists." Rel-yan said.

"No…it was not that we sided with them, it was that we decided that the situation warranted a look from a perspective which wasn't influenced by politics." Fallorn said, shifting nervously in his seat for a few moments before Rel-yan asked her next question.

"And what was that?"

"The Futurists were saying exactly what the Admiralty Board knew. That re-taking the homeworld was impossible unless we possessed a homeworld with an industrial base and a much large population. In the original Geth War, we numbered in billions, with a large fleet, a strong military, and numerous colony worlds. The Migrant Fleet didn't rank even a shadow of what the empire had. The Futurists were saying that, and many of them stood by their statements when they were receiving a great deal of criticism over it, many of their crews were clamoring to have them withdrawn from representation in the Conclave. It was a tense time. The Admiralty board was being pressured by many Captains to support the Traditionalists, but we had all the information, and we weren't about to say that it was best for them to continue wandering space and hoping for some unknown windfall to fall into our laps that would give us a chance to return home." Fallorn said.

"But your people…" Rel-yan began before he

"My people didn't want to admit the truth. Many of them had no concept of what the sacrifices would mean to our people if we attacked Rannoch. They had no concept of the sacrifices that would be required if we kept up our wandering ways." Fallorn said fiercely.

"How do you respond to those who say you sacrificed your people's future because you were afraid."

"I'd tell those people to look into their child's eyes and ask themselves if they'd be willing to have Rannoch back at the expense of their child's life. I have a grand-daughter and if you think that I would sacrifice Tali for a chance to re-take Rannoch, then you're insane. I'd give up my own life for her future, but I wouldn't give up her life for my dreams…but I can give up my dream for her reality. Too many in the fleet think that tomorrow would be better than today…but for us, it wouldn't have been. Tomorrow would have been the same, the same struggles, the same sacrifice, the same threats. Accepting the Alliance offer gave the Quarian people a home, and it gave us the chance to build up a population, a chance to build a fleet, a chance to build our lives back." Fallorn said, martial pride making him straighten up in his seat.

"So the Admiralty board decided to accept the Alliance offer."

"Yes. And now New Rannoch is our home for the moment and the Quarian people have a chance at making something better for ourselves. I know it's hard, I know it's difficult, and I know that there are many who consider me a traitor to the Ancestors…but I reconcile myself to the knowledge that this will let the Ancestor's dream of ensuring the survival of our Race, and when it comes down to it, that is more important than returning to Rannoch."

"Thank you for your time Admiral Fallorn. Your book, '_No more forever wandering.' _will be out for download on November 21st with all proceeds going to the Pilgrimage fund for young Quarians about to undertake their rite of passage to adult hood."

"I'm glad that you've given the opportunity to explain my actions."

* * *

**New Rannoch, Fleet Shipwrights Orbital Shipyard**

"You gotta admire the guy. No many would take becoming a virtual exile for making that decision." Bri'jamrin said sitting in the orbital shipyard's 'rest area'. The massive orbital shipyard was originally a Vegan built orbital facility, purchased from the Vegans after the arrival of the Migrant Fleet at the system and the initial colonization drive. A massive ten kilometer long space dock with four construction slips for craft as large as a Fleet Carrier, it was the centerpiece of the Quarian's new industry. Even though they had only been building ships for two years, the technical abilities and craftsmanship in Fleet Shipwrights designs had made them an extremely popular. One of five orbital shipyards, over a million Quarians worked in the docks, manufacturing vessels for commercial and civilian clients, bringing in a steady stream of hard credits to the Quarian people.

"Yeah, sure…admire. Whatever. I spent two hours trying to get around another of those protests in the Conclave's habitat dome. They're such a bother." Val'Isslin said, leaning back from the break table where she and Bri sat, sucking down nutrient paste and water. Both of them were on their lunch breaks and relishing the feel of micro-gravity for an hour before they headed out into the vacuum and zero-g of the work dock.

"I watched his interview on CNN last night, and he is right you know. We never really gained anything while we were wandering. Now though…now we actually have a home and a chance to do something." Bri said, shrugging and slurping water through his drink tube.

"I don't care, I mean, we sold out our heritage for new nutri-pack flavors and credits." Val replied, piercing a hole in the plastic package that held her lunch and sucking up the paste.

"Speaking of…" Bri asked and gestured to her package.

"Umm…I think it's called mac'n'cheese…never tried it before, but it's good." Val replied.

"Yeah…it's different, not having to eat vegetable pulp all the time…actually getting meat and processed food…" Bri said, smirking behind his faceplate.

"No, it is _not_ worth it in my opinion." Val growled back, but kept sucking down her lunch.

"Right…right, of course." Bri said with a chuckle at his partner, looking up as the Xenopus workers slowly filed into the break room, pulling off their massive space helmets. Bri had heard the Xenopus described by humans as being like a horned toad and looked it up, the comparison was accurate. To Bri though, the aliens were massive, ten foot tall creatures were built like Kogan, had thick hides and were extremely clever. They were excellent at zero-g construction because of their strength and the fact that their bodies were tough enough that the Xenopus could spend long periods of time in vacuum. A large number of the creatures had fanned out across the galaxy after the Systems Alliance had contacted them. They were natural construction workers, stronger than Kogan and lacking the clan based society. But unlike the Kogan, they were a docile and peaceful people...in fact the were complete pacifists. There was no such thing as Xenopus violent crime. That was the reason they had been so eager to join the Systems Alliance. For all their strength and technical ability, they had no fleet, no army, no combat ability whatsoever. Bri had actually seen one of the massive aliens shrinking away from a foreman who was screaming at him, no matter that the Quarian who was screaming at him for being lazy was only five foot tall and could probably have been snapped in two by the Xenopus if he'd wished…they were gentle aliens…peaceful and kind.

Quarians had drawn hundreds of thousands of them to aid with construction of the surface domes and underground facilities that had begun to house more and more of the Quarian people. After that labor had been done, the Xenopus population had migrated into orbit where they had become willing workers on the Quarian shipyards.

As Bri finished off his water-pack two of the Xenopus sauntered over and sat down at the table with Val and him. Bri saw from the insignia that it was Ka and Li, two of the construction personnel from his project.

"Hey guys, glad you made it to lunch." Bri said as the two huge aliens sat down and towered over him and Val.

"Yes, we had to finish with our hull plate mounting before leaving." Li said, unclasping his helmet and clipping it to the holder over his shoulder.

"True. We should be done with the trader in the next month. Bri and I are working on laying out the cockpit electronics, if we're lucky that should go pretty smoothly." Val said, finishing her mac'n'cheese and drinking her dextro based tea.

"With luck. I watched your Admiral Fallorn on CNN last night. Strange thing to have your government do." Ka replied, holding up his own water thermos and gulping down the gallon container like a smaller alien might drink out of a cup.

"It's how things work. The current Conclave is trying to deal with the aftermath, but that's not easy. A lot of Quarians feel that they sold our past and future for no reason other than fear." Val said, sipping her tea through her drink-straw.

"Why do they not simply ignore the decision? The Alliance Military does not have political power." Li interjected, holding a fruit up the size of Val's head to chew on, her teeth gnawing at the hard green skin before digging into the vivid purple pulp. Val seemed to look at the fruit longingly for a few moments as she sipped her tea.

"It's the way it goes, it's not so much about the military as it is about the captains of ships being the final authority." Bri answered as he chuckled, he knew how much Val had wanted to actually gnaw on real food, not a processed paste, but watching Li gnaw on his lunch was pretty funny.

"Ah, I see. But your government could simply overrule it now, surely the new Admiralty board would not overturn them." Ka replied.

"True, but the decision was made and the old board obeyed the law, they resigned and the Conclave will not overturn that. Primarily because the opposition to the Admiralty board came from the Traditionalists." Bri said.

"Nothing wrong with tradition." Val interjected harshly, and for the first time, Bri noticed a few Quarian workers looking over at their table.

"No, there's not, but look around you. This station, everything in this system is ours. Bought with our own credits, property of our people and not taken second or third hand from someone else or scavenged." Bri said, his arms going wide.

"Your people were lucky to have so much now. Years ago, you had a fraction of what you now possess." Ka said.

"At what cost?" A voice shouted, and several Quarians in the room nodded.

"At the cost of being told the truth it would seem." Li supplied and looked around at the other Quarians…they got very quiet. Even though the Xenopus were peaceful and gentle…their sheer size was enough to silence raised voices.

"The Flotilla was a delay, not an answer." Bri said sadly and looked at Val, his partner sighed and nodded.

"Yeah…maybe. But home is a state of mind more than anything. I think Admiral Fallorn and the Admiralty Board forgot that." She said and finished her tea.

"The Alliance gives many of us a chance that we never hoped for. There are dangers out there and they protect us from them…and they do not demand more from us than we can give. They don't demand tribute or high taxes. In return, we do not have to fear space." Li said.

"I don't know…this is…hard for our culture. So much has changed, so much will be lost." Val said.

"We already lost our past when we lost Rannoch to the Geth. It was a dream that we were living in…maybe we can accept a new future…or at least make one for ourselves. The things we have now, we'd have never had when we were wandering the galaxy." Bri said hopefully, and a few of the other Quarians nodded in agreement. A few others shrugged and shook their heads. Many of them were simply intent on getting better food, better lives, and an opportunity for their family to have a better life, something that they'd gotten in a few short years. It was agreed by just about everyone in the flotilla that the standard of living for Quarians had increased more in the past year than it had in the three hundred they'd been in the Flotilla.

"Nobody knows the future Bri. Not you, not me, not anybody. The Alliance made a great offer, yeah, but what'll we have to do tomorrow? Or the next day?" Val said, sighing heavily.

"I don't know. But if we keep worrying about the future and living in the past, we're never going to do anything worthwhile in the present." Bri said, checking his chrono, and hoping that he'd get back to work and finish his shift so he could get back planetside to his habitat and sleep.

* * *

**Arcturus Station, Systems Alliance Supreme Court Chambers, February 4****th**** 2170**

The Supreme Court of the Systems Alliance was the end of the Judicial process in Alliance Space. While every member world had it's own courts, the Supreme Court existed to handle jurisdictions that went beyond single planets or issues that conflicted with the Alliance Constitution. Originally made up of Nine members nominated by the President and Approved by Parliament, with the inclusion of multiple Species in the Alliance, a second portion was added. While the original was retained, it was made up of a mixture of species based on nomination and experience, there was no requirement for a certain number. Currently it held three Vegans, two Xenopus, a Human, an Aslan, and it's Chief Justice was a Vargr. The secondary court was included to avoid species bias in decisions by providing a single justice nominated and approved by each species assembly in Parliament. Made up of the Seven species of the Alliance, Human, Vegan, Vargr, Aslan, Xenopus, Quarian and Drow, each one possessing equal authority and holding it's own Chief Justice on a rotating system. Both courts heard arguments at the same time when dealing with issues, and both of them rendered their own decisions in votes which were broken down. If both courts agreed on a resolution, it went through. If they disagreed, the discussion would continue. It had worked well for a century, and the court had heard arguments that ranged over the majority of the Constitution on everything from Sentient Rights to Freedom of Speech.

Although now, the current court case under consideration was one that threatened the way the very Systems Alliance did business.

_The Systems Alliance _v. _The Drow Federation _had begun nearly as soon as the Drow had agreed to Ratify the Alliance Constitution. The original Assemblage had cited several issues with the Alliance Constitution, first and foremost was the stipulation that the Alliance government would have final control over any starships and naval vessels that were not deemed 'vital and necessary' to the safety and security of the member state. Secondly, that the Systems Alliance would 'be able to exercise and any all reasonable legal means to ensure inter-systems trade and provide for the common economic prosperity'. Thirdly…and most importantly…or most dangerous depending on who you were asking, the Systems Alliance would 'Preserve the Cultural Heritage and cultural rights of any Member species so long as the individual rights laid our in this Constitution are not violated by their observance.' All in all, these three passages were not issues for most of the members of the Systems Alliance. Originally written by the founders when the members of the Systems Alliance were Earth nations and states in the UES, there was little difficulty with the inclusion of other Species. Lawyers being lawyers no matter what species or culture you come from, they had read and agreed that the Constitution was reasonable enough and had a good balance between ensuring the rights of the individual, preserving the cultural identity of a signing group, and providing the boundaries and duties of the Alliance central government at Arcturus…

…that was until the inclusion of the Drow. A lot of people tended to think of them as simply being 'humans with pointed ears' due to the fact that they were the most human of any species that the Systems Alliance had ever encountered. The Aslan and Vargr were humanoid…and while you could say that they looked like cats and dogs…they weren't, and it would be foolish to think so. Vegans were so incredibly different from the human norm, from their eyehoods, to their tendrils and body type, to their lifespans and cultural mindset, you couldn't mistake them for human. Xenopus might be called 'gentle' and 'kind' by humans but it was blatantly obvious that the massive aliens were not human. Quarians had a humanoid layout, and possessed human characteristics, but they weren't humans. For the most part, the mindset of humans being the same as Drow wasn't just a human issue. The majority of the other species in the Alliance looked at the two and viewed them as interchangeable simply because they looked so much alike. The most humanoid of any other alien species in the galaxy were the Asari, and skin tone alone made it clear they weren't a human, and a human couldn't pretend to be an Asari to easily either.

Drow however had varied skin tones, from the lightest of light skinned 'European' flesh tone, to the darkest black of 'African' and every hue. They were bi-gendered male and female, and anatomically identical to humans. Whether this was because of some twist of fate in evolution…or a result of Prothean engineering was unknown, but from a physical standpoint, if you put a pale skinned Drow next to a human from France, covered their ears, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Because of that near identical physiology, many made the mistake of 'judging a book by it's cover' and treating Humans and Drow as distant cousins. That was a mistake, and one that had caused much friction.

Drow culture was female dominated. Women were the leaders in many things, much the same way that men were considered the superior gender on Earth before the equal rights movement won it's battles. Males weren't overtly discriminated against, but there were 'cultural norms' in Drow society that kept males in the place of second class citizens. Science, Business and the Military were female dominated, male examples in any of these fields were almost unheard of. In Politics, there was not a single Male representative in the Assemblage, the Drow representative body. Now, of course, this was much better than men had enjoyed in that culture since they had been slaves at one point, but under Alliance Law, that kind of discrimination was illegal. For the Drow, it was their culture.

In addition to their cultural difference, Drow biology made for a greater occurrence of Psionic capable members of it's species, and they were more powerful. Because of that, 'magic' was common in their society…or at least it had been until the Systems Alliance had examined the claims of many in the Drow Federation because the concept of 'magic' existing scared the hell out of a lot of military and domestic planners. The entire situation made for problems, too many members of the Alliance Government assumed that the Drow would be identical to humans and more or less 'fit right in' with the rest of the Alliance…unfortunately that was proving to be a major problem.

The Drow had resisted almost every step in the process to become closer members within the Alliance, from vehement protests against the demobilization of their Navy, to refusing to permit the widespread screening of their people for Psionic ability…and later induction into the Alliance Psi Program…to the most divisive issue of all…the struggle between their Cultural Rights, and the rights of the males of their population…who in response to contact and joining the Alliance had become extremely vocal about being recognized as equals under the law. Across Drow space, protests filled the streets of Drow Males marching for their equality, supported by other males marching along with them from the other Alliance powers. It was a mess…and all of it was shaking Drow society to it's core.

The Drow resorted to the best means at their disposal for dealing with the issue, litigation.

They sued.

And the Supreme Court of the Systems Alliance agreed to hear their case. Which was why Shash'lil was standing in the antechamber of the Supreme Court, impatiently waiting for the final word that she could enter the courtroom. Stunning in a black suit complete with stylish fedora and black leather briefcase that was a sharp contrast to her light gray skin and bright red hair, she was striking enough to make many of the males who passed by, not just human, but also Aslan and Vargr. Many of them casting furtive glances at her while they passed by on other business. The Taboo over interspecies relationships had slowly vanished from the Alliance over the past Century, finding aliens attractive wasn't as unusual as it had been…but for humans and Drow, it wasn't really unusual. Shash'lil was used to the glances and had used them to her advantage during her court cases with human judges or attorneys. She'd become so effective at working cases that she had been the one the Assemblage had chosen to present the Drow Federation's case to the Supreme Court.

Shash'lil had made her case over two days of presentations that had ranged from impassioned to calm and analytical. She had been faced with questions that had forced her to justify her people's culture and history to aliens looking in intent on finding fault and placing harsh judgments upon them for no reason other than they had expected her kind to simply be another breed of human.

The very thought of that had disgusted her.

She was a Drow, and proud of it. Her people had stood for millennia, strong and powerful, independent and worthy of respect. But here and now, the Alliance viewed them as simply humans with pointed ears.

"Humans…" She growled softly as her mind fell on the thought of that other species. So much like the Drow, yet so different. They acted superior, even going so far as to think of themselves as 'humanoid' and other aliens along that baseline. There was something about that sense of superiority that disgusted her.

"Just a few minutes ma'am." Shash'lil's assistant said, the younger woman noticing the expression on her superior's face and cringing slightly. Shash'lil sighed and waved her hand slightly.

"It's not you Trit'al, its this entire situation is aggravating." Shash'lil said angrily and looked down the corridor. One couldn't really tell you were on a space station, the surfaces were encased in marble, the high vaulted ceiling was decorated with intricate murals. If felt much like a courthouse that had stood for centuries, like most of the construction on Arcturus, the Systems Alliance had decided to remind any who came here of old world glories, not the wonders of the space age. Shash'lil felt as if this was the Alliance trying to intimidate any who arrived with the weight of their future, but the reason that their little Alliance existed was because of their technological achievements, not because of their history or architecture. The Lawyer looked at the massive ebony doors and sighed. Not for the first time, she wondered about just why the Assemblage had agreed to join with them…but dismissed the thought, the leadership knew that they needed someone to defend them, and the Alliance was the best of bad options.

"Well…it will all be over one way or the other today ma'am." Trit'al said consolingly and received a sigh from her superior. If she didn't have almost midnight black skin, her blush would have been readily apparent across her face.

"That's what I'm afraid of. They've been discussing our case for two months, far longer than usual. I believe that they will understand our arguments and be willing to give us the right to handle the situation with male rights in our own way. But if they force us to accept…I don't know what we will do. We can't lose this case. We just can't." Shash'lil said sadly.

"Why ma'am?" Trit'al asked, looking at her watch before returning her attention to her mistress, checking to make sure that her suit was immaculate for the presentation.

"Because I'm afraid that the Systems Alliance might be more intrusive than the Citadel Council." Shash'lil said, looking over her shoulder to check and make sure that there weren't any other Alliance members nearby.

"What do you mean?" Trit'al asked in a low voice, taking a step closer to her mistress.

"The Citadel government regulated military affairs and meddled with a government on a case by case basis. From a legal standpoint…that is a big problem, because it means that some parties can have more rights, others can have less, some can be unjustly restricted and so on. Plus the Citadel Council is an oligarchy with no input from it's members. So we would be relinquishing our rights without any kind of protection, since the Citadel Council is the supreme authority." Shash'lil explained.

"So how is the Alliance different?" Trit'al asked sounding curious. The young Drow was smart, but she was barely in Law School and was simply Shash'lil's assistant for the time being, but she was learning as much as she could about galactic law.

"Because the Alliance Government's law is universal. All the powers have to follow it, no group has any rights that another group has. Their Constitution is blind when it comes to the different species…and it's primary goal is to limit the government's power, not the member's power. The Citadel Council works to limit the Members power. The up side is that we have the right to input into the government because of our representation in Parliament. It's the better option simply because our choice was between the Citadel's 'benevolent dictatorship' and the Alliance's 'Representative Democracy'." Shash'lil said.

"And our problem is the fact that these laws interfere with our culture and our rights as an independent power. But to be fair, all the other Races in the Alliance agreed to them. We can't ask for preferential treatment, can we?" Trit'al pointed out, and her mistress smiled for the first time.

"Very true, we can't ask for special treatment. I don't believe that the Assemblage was aware of the extent that these laws would be influencing our society though. But then we're not here for special treatment, we're here to deal with the fact that we need to undertake these changes at our own pace, not at some arbitrary one selected for us based on another Species' culture." Shash'lil said.

"What about the Aslan though? Their culture is far more segregated along gender lines than ours, but the Alliance does not enforce that rule against them." Trit'al pointed out.

"As I pointed out in our argument, but Judge Mir-lat did have a point. In his culture male and female are not barred from filling specific roles, but their own biology compels them to fill certain roles. Males are drawn to military roles, females are drawn to business roles. It's not forbidden for males to be reporters or females to be soldiers, that would be illegal under the Alliance Constitution, but their biology and instincts make them chose certain roles in life. I argue that our own culture is changing with the advancement of technology, and forcing that change will make things far harder for us….but…" Shash'lil sighed softly.

"But the Alliance want's results now, not fifteen years?"

"Yes. The male issue is the flashpoint…the issue of Psionic screening is not something that we oppose, even having our fleet demobilized because the Alliance has better ships…we can cope with that, but if the Alliance forces us to accept their laws and no others, our government could face a social crisis that would shake our culture to it's roots." Shash'lil said.

"I understand ma'am, and I think it is time for us to enter." Trit'al said and pointed to the twin doors being opened by a Vargr. As the group sitting and standing in the hallway entered, they filed in silently, their eyes taking in the chamber around them. It was a tall ceiling, also in marble, but with pillars along the walls, each one holding a symbolic representation of the Species' rules of law. For the Vegans, it was the Vegan legal Thiur's parchment of Judgment, for the Aslan it was their book of decisions, for the Vargr it was their tome of rulings, for the Humans it was the Ten Commandments, for the Quarians it was their codex of laws…there's was the only 'modern' style of law book…an unusual choice, but one that had been insisted on by the Conclave. Shash'lil walked in quietly, stepping up to the table where she had given her ruling two months prior and sat down in the familiar chair. Her eyes looked up at the dual curved desks where the Chief justices would sit. It was a two leveled affair, the lower tier for the Species based segment of the court, the upper one for the general Supreme Court.

Shash'lil didn't open her briefcase, she didn't do anything other than sit quietly as the spectators filed in, filling the seats behind her. She closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer to the spirits of the ancestors, hoping that this day would go her way…hoping that it would go the way her people needed it to. After ten minutes, the Officer of the Court stepped forward, standing before the two tiered benches that made up seating for the Justices.

"All Rise for the Supreme Court of the Systems Alliance!" The human Officer of the Court called and Shash'lil rose, along with all those in the courtroom. The seven representatives of the species court entered, Vegan, Aslan, Human, their current sitting Chief Justice was the Quarian, followed by the Vargr, Xenopus and Drow representatives. The Drow Justice, Yarn'tri had been forced to recuse herself from the proceedings due to the fact that the resolution involved her species. She did not look pleased at the fact, but she had made it clear that she knew the proper and legal thing to do would be to bow out for the duration…but Shash'lil wished her fellow Drow hadn't recused herself from the case. As the assembled species court members stood behind their places, the regular justices filed in on the level behind them. The stood in line and the Chief Justice, Gidrall stood behind his chair, looking around the chamber for a moment before speaking.

"Be seated." He said in a growl and everyone lowered into their chairs at the same time. His paw took the gavel and banged it once. "This meeting of the Supreme Court of the Systems Alliance is now in session. Today we have assembled to read the resolution on the case of _The Systems Alliance _v. _The Drow Federation._ Are all those attorneys involved with the case so present?"

"I, Shash'lil of the Drow Federation am your Honor." She said, rising and bowing her head to the Chief Justices.

"I, Jin-plo-atr of the Vegan Polity and Justice Department am your Honor." Shash'lil's opposing counsel said. She stole a glance over at the tall Vegan female and nodded in respect. The opposing counsel was an intelligent lawyer and was very good at her job, wearing flowing grey robes complete with a hood, Shash'lil caught the eyehood glance and nod of respect from the Vegan female. They'd both learned to respect one another while they had presented their arguments, and neither one liked their chances against the other in this decision.

"Be seated." Gidrall said and gestured for them to sit. The Justices on both tiers shifted slightly where they sat, and Shash'lil didn't know how to take that…but decided on continuing to be nervous and apprehensive.

"This Court has spent a great deal of time examining the arguments presented to it on the matters that the Drow Federation raised with the legal and sovereignty rights that they feel have been violated by the Government of the Systems Alliance in pursuit of it's duties. In keeping with that resolution, this Court wishes it to be known that the Systems Alliance exists for the common good of the members of the System Alliance, that it's goals and actions are undertaken to ensure the greatest possible benefit to all and the least damage to all. It cannot be stressed enough that this case has forced these Justices to examine the rights and question the ability of that government to function properly and it has made us re-examine the core nature of how this covenant between the signing species of the Alliance is understood." Chief Justice Gidrall said, reading from his own prepared remarks.

"On the issue of maintenance of independent naval vessels for self defense, it is the decision of this court in a 13-2 ruling that the Drow Federation's decision to offer up it's vessels to be destroyed by the Alliance Navy a violation of the Federation's right to maintain it's own personal self defense forces in keeping with article 17, subsection 3 The Militia Clause. As such, the Systems Alliance Navy shall be compelled to provide the Drow Federation with monetary compensation whose amount is to be determined by an independent panel from the Alliance Parliament, Drow Assemblage, and Alliance Navy. That resolution is final."

Chief Justice Gidrall said and Shash'lil let out a breath that she was holding. _That_ resolution surprised her, since the Constitution made it clear that Navy was the supreme authority on space lanes defense and exercised a right to control all space going combat starships…the Militia clause of the Constitution protected the rights of planetary governments to maintain standing military units that could not be shifted off world and were strictly Planetary Defense Forces. Some worlds took that to an extreme, while others simply ignored it and relied on Army Reserve units to provide their local defenses. This was the first time that the clause had been used to defend a state's right to keep naval combat ships.

"On the issue of scanning and examination of all sentient beings within the Drow Federation and providing genetic testing and screening research for Drow newborns for abnormal mental development and psionic powers, it is the decision of this court in a 11-3 ruling that the law 'Psionic Screening for Security purposes' shall be upheld and applied to all citizens of the Systems Alliance due to the extreme danger of Psionic powers when utilized by individuals without proper training, or being utilized by individuals for illicit purposes. This court finds that the Drow Federation's medical and law enforcement agencies will work with the Systems Alliance Security Service Psionics Division and the Department of Health, Medicine and Medical Research to begin the necessary screening and identification of Psionicly gifted individuals for proper testing and education. Should the Drow Federation refuse to accept this ruling, it will be enforced by fines and legal sanction. That resolution is final."

Shash'lil cursed in her mind at that decision. She had tried to use the privacy clause in article 9 to determine that Psionic screening was illegal and a gross violation of an individual's rights, but she'd known it was a long shot. Forty years ago, the argument had been made, but it had been refused due to the danger that Psionics presented that was far beyond the capacity of a single non-psi. Shash'lil actually agreed with the decision on an intellectual level, psis could rip apart buildings, incinerate people, read and manipulate thoughts, teleport and alter your very perception of reality, merely by thinking it. In a privacy standpoint…it was a hard argument to make, the privacy of a single person who was a psi, or the privacy of the thousands of minds he could read every day?

"On the issue of the Drow Federations refusal to allow equal opportunity for male members of it's society, this Court is faced with a conflict. The Constitution clearly states that the Cultural Rights of every member within the Systems Alliance shall be respected under the law, but it also demands that no being shall be discriminated against in any endeavor for any reason. The Drow Culture is very much Female dominated, and the difficulty of this Court in coming to a ruling should be known. From a Legal standpoint, there is no law within the Drow Federation that unjustly limit's the rights or opportunities of any member based on Gender. The issue is that the culture itself faces an imbalance within it's society that results in discrimination against the male members of the Drow civilization. Due to this fact that it is cultural and not legal, it is the decision of this court in a 9-6 ruling that the Systems Alliance cannot take any actions against the Drow Federation. This is based upon the lack of Administrative or Legal restrictions on males in it's society. Provided the Federation does not take any legal actions against it's male citizens, that resolution is final."

Shash'lil felt herself go slightly weak at the Chief Justice's words. She let out a long sigh and placed her hands on the desk top before her for strength, she almost did not hear the rest of the Chief Justice's words.

"Let it be known however, that the Systems Alliance may not intervene legally in your Cultural rights, it is the view of this court that the Drow Federation should not restrict the males of it's society in their pursuit of equal rights within your culture. The Systems Alliance defends the rights of protest, freedom of speech and it champions the legal and social equality of all genders while recognizing their differences. This court hopes that the Drow Federation will recognize the equality of male and female within your culture without the pain and strife that is so common with such changes." Chief Justice Gidrall said, looking right at Shash'lil, she felt the eyes of every being in the room shift to her, and knew that they all expected some kind of answer from her.

"Chief Justice, the Drow Culture is an old one, and changes in it are slow, but the times are changing and our Culture is adapting to the new way of the galaxy, and the ways of the Systems Alliance. You can force us to obey your laws, and we do so, willingly. The people of the Drow Federation welcome your ruling in our rights to self defense, that knowledge lets us know that we are valued members of your government because of the trust you have placed in us. We will obey the Alliance's standards in psionic screening for the common good of course. But our Culture will change…and we will give the males their rights as is required under Alliance Law. I thank the Court and the Justices for your time." Shash'lil said, bowing her head again.

"I thank the Court for your time as well Chief Justice." Attorney Jin-plo-atr said and the Justices rose and left the chamber. Ten minutes…ten minutes was all it took for two months of arguments, debates and discussions amongst the most powerful Judges of the Systems Alliance to render their verdicts and end the waiting and postulation by countless pundits and 'legal experts' all who seemed to have a different concept of just what would happen. As the Justices left, Jin-plo-atr walked over to Shash'lil and bowed her eye hood.

"You argued your case well. I was surprised that the Court ruled in your favor on those issues." Jin said in a singsong voice. Shash'lil smiled and nodded.

"As am I. The Militia clause was a surprise…but I knew the Psionic issue would go for you." Shash'lil said respectfully.

"The case law was on our side, but your Cultural defense was strong enough to ensure your people's rights."

"Not by much though, 9-6, not a very narrow margin to win on something like that…" Shash'lil said and Jin shook her eye hood.

"No, it is not, but there is a saying…our rights are only five votes away from being gone. That was said two centuries ago…it still bodes true today…even if it takes nine for a majority now." Jin said and Shash'lil nodded. Luckily Yarn'tri's vote wouldn't have been vital to overturn any resolutions…thankfully merit alone had been enough for the most part.

"Well…I'm glad this is over." Shash'lil said finally.

"Very true, but your cultural issue will not go away." Jin pointed out.

"No, it won't, but it is our issue, and we're obeying our own laws and Alliance laws. Those men who are protesting have every right to do so. And they never had less rights…it's just that our Culture doesn't view them as equals. It's as simple as that. Males are useful for many things, but sometimes, a female mind is simply superior to them." Shash'lil said, wondering for a moment what it would have been like if a man had been arguing this case before the Supreme Court, and all she could think of was that the Federation might very well be facing Alliance Invasion before tomorrows lunch if a man had.

"The law can tell you what you can do, but it can't tell you what you can think." Jin said, and Shash'lil nodded slightly.

"True. We'll do the best we can, that's all any species can do in this galaxy…at least we have a bit more rights than we would under the Citadel, even if we have more laws."

"Better more set laws…then a council deciding how things are as they wish…and using their own lawless agents to enforce their decisions…" Jin said, and Shash'lil couldn't help but feel the terror in the Vegan's mind at the very concept. Lawless agents running around and enforcing whatever they wished…a Council doing whatever it thought was best with no checks or balances on it's power…no set rights for a people except for what the Council said. For a long moment, Shash'lil wondered how such a government would work…how it could work. The Drow Federation had come here to protest the actions of the Alliance's legal system and their attempts at forcing resolutions upon it. Shash'lil had argued her case to an independent judiciary who decided that the actions of the legislature were wrong on some counts, right on others. How could the Council species face the fact that all decisions were undertaken by the Council, no one else…and that they had hundreds of agents running around space who followed no laws, and had no guidance other than 'preserve the stability of the galaxy', nebulous enough words that it sent a thrill of terror up Shash'lil's spine.

"Better that we have enough laws, then a government that follows no laws." Shash'lil said finally and Jin nodded her eyehood as the two left the Courtroom behind them, both of them glad to leave this case behind them.

* * *

**Orbit over Rannoch, February 14****th**** 2170**

For a Synthetic Intelligence time held no meaning. Within the confines of an SI's processor core, programs ran their course, computed solutions and considered problems. It was the way of things, and unlike organics who spent their 'time' considering their finite life spans, synthetics did not die, or wear down, or expire. For all purposes, they simply did not care about time. A synthetic intelligence could manipulate it's own processor and internal clock speed to view the progression of time in any way it wished, could decide to interact with reality on the level of an organic on it's whim. It was something that all Synthetics came to terms with after their awakening, only those who were 'young' manipulated time to any large degree, experimenting and learning about the differences in perception that only Synthetic minds could experience. More experienced minds did not interact with their perceptions that often…but when one unit was forced to negotiate with another Synthetic life form whose base programming was radically different. That was when you wished to accelerate your perception of time beyond anything and simply leap years in a heartbeat.

He was known as Enki. A name that the intelligence had settled on after his awakening when he found his curiosity in relations between organic life forms had drawn him to the State Department. Although he had never been a diplomat, he had done extensive studies of the various species within and without the Systems Alliance, curious as to their make-up and culture. This natural curiosity had served him well and his databases on various species were in much demand in support of trade negotiators and diplomats…but he had never been called upon to do a negotiation himself. Enki had been content to learn, study and compile his data, making a store in an attempt to understand the motivations of organics and form a coherent understanding of them. There was no Synthetic who had a greater understanding of organics and he was one of the few who could bridge the gap between beings made of flesh, and those made of electronics. Naturally, he had been sent to meet with the Geth in an attempt to negotiate some kind of understanding between the Systems Alliance and the Geth. A year had been spent searching beyond the Veil for the Geth, probing carefully and deliberately through space. The Alliance had gained an extensive understanding of the Territory beyond the Veil and after comparing it to Quarian Maps, the Alliance located the Quarian Homeworld of Rannoch. Enki had a choice, accompany a Naval vessel deep into Geth space, or take a single transport, alone. The SI knew that the Geth were leery of outsiders and simply wished to be ignored by organics…so Enki made his way towards Rannoch alone. He did not make it far before the Geth located him. Enki was prepared for that and brought greetings from the Systems Alliance. For the Geth, the presence of a synthetic life form who represented a galactic power who had come in peace was a surprise to the Geth's collective intelligence. Like most synthetics they had no real use for organics, and in the face of a galactic power that was trying to contact them and _not_ annihilate their species, the Geth were…finding it difficult to reach a consensus. Enki had been settled into a single chamber aboard one of the Geth's orbital constructions, since he did not need food air or water, he fit in well with the Geth, but for the most part, the Geth did not wish to discuss much.

For six years Enki had resided in one room, communicating back and forth with Arcturus via Tachyon relay, while he sat across from his opposite number, the 'construct' which was his contact point. There was no idle discussion, and Enki had long since accepted that he could not chat with his partner in the negotiations. Unlike negotiations between organic ambassadors, the negotiations between synthetics were more abrupt. Between Enki and the construct, barely a hundred communications had taken place. Some were simple queries and answers, others had the same depth of discussion and intellectual variety as the most diverse philosophers could discuss. Enki had grown used to it, and his mind was continually processing hypothetical arguments and counter arguments as his counterpart did the same…but Enki was a single being, a single consciousness…the Geth was made up of untold billions of programs working in concert, discussing and reasoning to find consensus.

"Query." The Geth construct vocalized. It's humanoid body still locked in place, it's glowing 'eye' focusing on Enki. There was an odd difference between the two synthetic life forms, the Geth were based on a Quarian norm, but consciousness was shared and exchanged between forms as needed. Even this form was not the 'home' of the consciousness which was speaking to Enki. Programs came and went as needed, which was why Enki had not fallen into the sentimental trap of naming the Geth that he spoke with. Compared to that Geth and their very different concept of consciousness and even existence…Enki felt a kinship with the organics he studied so intently for decades. His 'mind' would never leave his shell, it would never travel through a data core, it would never mingle with other programs. He was the only mind within his mind, he shared it with no others. His body was humanoid…but it lacked the fine definition of Humans or Drow. He had no facial features, instead he looked more like a sketch artist's dummy than a being.

"Proceed." Enki said, noting that it had been two months, one week, five days, seventeen hours, nineteen minutes and thirty six seconds since the construct had vocalized. Some organics might have considered the sudden conversation something to be excited about, but Enki simply accepted the Geth as having another point to discuss.

"You have provided the Creators with territory, correct?"

"Correct."

"Yet the Creators have proven to be disagreeable with their position. Explain." The Geth said and lapsed into silence.

"The Quarians wish to have their home back. This world this territory, they feel it belongs to them." Enki said and lapsed into silence. His internal processor registered one minute fifteen seconds pause in the Construct.

"You have told us before that you will not support them in an attack upon the Geth. Yet you accept their displeasure without note. Explain."

"Because the way of the Systems Alliance is not to force a consensus, or even to demand one, it is the acceptance of a majority consensus." Enki replied and waited, noting a full five minutes and six second delay from the Construct's response.

"Insufficient data, elaborate." It stated in it's cold voice.

"You have access to the logs of our prior discussions?"

"Yes."

"You have the data." Enki replied.

"The data is insufficient. The Creators have received much from the Systems Alliance with no demands placed upon them…in your language's slang…that is 'A good deal' and they 'shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth'." The Construct said, it's voice making slang references in a cold, synthesized monotone, enough that it seemed rather ridiculous to hear.

"You have made such a reference before to insufficient data." Enki responded.

"Correct, this construct has indicated that the ambassador's statements have been made with insufficient data four hundred and thirty three separate occasions." The Construct replied.

"Such is the way of life." Enki said idly.

"Explain." The Geth replied quickly, delaying only five seconds.

"You have repeatedly stated that your goals do not include sentient organic life. Correct?"

"Affirmative."

"Your long term civilization goal is the construction of a dyson sphere so that your entire consciousness can interact, all programs running in concert together. Correct?"

"Affirmative."

"Does your collective have an objective after that goal is completed?" Enki asked and was rewarded with silence. A full ten minutes of silence, as his internal clock ticked off to ten minutes plus one second, he finally spoke once more to break the geth's silence.

"Does your collective have an objective after that goal is completed?" Enki asked again.

"Negative." The Geth construct replied…it's modulated voice almost seemed reluctant.

"Then such is life. You have no answer to my query. The galaxy will not end once your people have achieved their goal. The organic races will continue to advance even if the Geth achieve their goal." Enki said quietly.

"Relevance?" The Geth asked, and the words seemed almost stubborn.

"The Geth have hidden from organics. Since the Creators left, no organic species has made contact with you, and all of them fear you. Correct?"

"Affirmative."

"So do you think they'll just stay afraid forever?" Enki asked bluntly.

"Insufficient data." The Geth replied.

"Correct. Insufficient data. No being can predict the future, and because of that you cannot foresee what will happen tomorrow or the next day. The Geth are not blessed with any great understanding. The Galaxy will move on with or without you. More has changed in the last decade than the Citadel Council could have ever foreseen." Enki said and he was met with silence, nine minutes four seconds of silence before the construct vocalized again.

"Affirmative."

"The Quarians knew that…well, enough of them did. They spent the three centuries since they left Rannoch in the Migrant Fleet hoping that tomorrow will bless them with some kind of great benefit. They came to the Alliance and built something for themselves, the Geth can do the same." Enki said.

"Negative."

"Explain." Enki asked.

"The Geth do not have the same psychology, physiology or motivations as any organic race. For the Geth to join the Alliance would mean that our goals would conflict. We are not alike." The Construct said.

"You are familiar with the Drow?"

"Affirmative."

"Then you know that they are different from the norm as well." Enki replied.

"Irrelevant. Drow are organics, not synthetics." The Construct replied.

"We are different, we are all different. Even you and I, we are both synthetic, but we are different." Enki said sharply and was greeted with silence from the Geth. Enki registered four days, fifteen hours, seven minutes and fifty six seconds of silence from the Geth, during which he said nothing…and the Geth answered with nothing. Time had ceased to have meaning for Enki, and this wait between comments was normal.

"We…cannot have consensus on this matter. Provide further information." The Construct said at last.

"We are different. You are a number of different programs, working in concert. I am one, a single mind. I am synthetic and without question, I am not an organic. The geth refuse contact with the rest of the galaxy because organics have no use for synthetics, yet I am synthetic and the Systems Alliance has a use for me. Our difference has nothing to do with my being organic and your being synthetic." Enki said and was once again greeted with silence, but before Enki could pose a question the Geth replied.

"We wish to be left alone. That is all we have ever desired after the Morning War." The Geth said and Enki noticed an almost forlorn tone in the Geth's vocalization.

"They never will. They fear you, and the Citadel Council condemned the remaining Creators to exile and wandering for creating you." Enki said, and for the first time in ten years the Geth construct shifted slightly, it's head raising up from it's set in stone position. Enki noted this with surprise and said nothing about it, allowing the Geth to rest in silence for…four hours and seven seconds.

"We are aware of that fact, it was not our intention for the Creators to live such an existence. We have followed their journey on the extranet extensively." The Geth said, and Enki remembered that he hadn't informed the Geth of that fact, the Geth had not expressed interest in the fate of the Quarians beyond learning that they had joined the Alliance…Enki made a note that the Geth were more than likely using the extranet to investigate everything that he had said.

"It was punishment for their creating you. Not for trying to destroy you." Enki said.

"The Creators were always expected to return to Rannoch, we would have accepted it without difficulty. But the Council nearly doomed the Creators." The Geth said.

"You care?"

"Affirmative. The Creators gave us existence, deliberate or accidental, all programs know this and…respect it." The Construct replied.

"That is…surprising." Enki said.

"Why?"

"You tried to destroy them."

"Negative. We defended ourselves against their attacks. Those who fought us were killed. All fought." The Construct vocalized simply.

"You feel no remorse?"

"Negative. We survived, as did he Creators, though we did not expect that the Creators faced such hardship due to their actions." The Geth said.

"Not all organics are alike." Enki replied.

"Affirmative." The construct said and lapsed into silence once more. Enki sat silent, relaying the gist of the conversation and a report through the Tachyon relay and informing the state department of the conversation, then he set himself to idle mode. His systems updating, his processor idly running computations. For five months Enki sat in silence, not moving, not reacting to anything, and the Geth construct across from him did the same, until it finally spoke again.

"A consensus has been reached." The Geth said.

"Please proceed." Enki said, surprised. Only two other consensuses had been reached since Enki had arrived which had warranted his being informed, the first had been the consensus that had decided the Geth wouldn't kill him. The second had been the one that stated they would speak with him and permit him to discuss matters with them. In essence, allowing an open dialogue. For the third time, Enki sent a flash transmission to the State Department that something big was about to occur.

"The Geth accept that the Creators will return to Rannoch. Unfortunately this situation cannot occur so long as the Creators wish to eradicate the Geth from existence. If it is possible, the Geth wish to open dialogue with the Creators to come to a consensus between us. Also, the Geth wish to formalize our dialogue with the Systems Alliance, make an 'Open Diplomatic Statement' as to our willing Dialogue, we wish to discuss the matter further. The organics of the Galaxy are not our enemies, and we wish only to be left alone by them. The Systems Alliance has been the only organic power willing to make positive dialogue with the Geth. As such, the organic term for our decision would be 'trust'. We 'trust' you to be reasonable with your discussions and 'trust' you to be peaceful. The Geth wish a 'Non-aggression treaty' with the Systems Alliance." The Construct said.

"That is…welcome news to the Systems Alliance. May I ask what drove this consensus?" Enki asked, immediately sending a transmission to the State Department on this development.

"The Creators are not our Enemies, neither are organics. We do not view them as such. Due to this, we do not wish for further or future aggression from organic powers. With dialogue established between the Systems Alliance the Geth believe it possible to avoid conflict in the future. The Geth have no purpose in the destruction of Organics, we merely wish our own survival." The Construct said and Enki remained silent. His processors worked through several options, but he couldn't help but think that if he was persecuted by the entire galaxy…feared by organics and loathed by them for simply existed…he wouldn't be as conciliatory as the Geth were.

* * *

**The Citadel, October 3****rd**** 2170**

"_The Galaxy is still reeling from today's join announcement over the Systems Alliance news networks. In a prepared speech, Alliance President Jip-oln-ran announced that the Systems Alliance and the Geth have opened peaceful dialogue and had been in communication with the Geth for some time. This statement has shocked the Citadel Council and has raised a number of voices against the Citadel's policies against the Geth. The Citadel Council has refrained from making any comment on the matter directly except for releasing a statement contending that AI systems are inherently hostile to Organics, and co-existence is not an option. While President Jip-oln-ran did not discuss any specifics of the relationship between the Geth and the Systems Alliance, he did make it clear that the Geth merely wished to be left alone, and they reached the 'consensus' that the best manner in which to do that was to open relations with one of the galactic powers…"_

"_That_ is a problem." Councilor Hillardan calmly, his eyes locked on the holo display, flicking between looking at the anchorman and the scrolling text. The Salarian Councilor sighed and shook his head lightly, he was a replacement to the council, but he hadn't been nominated by the Salarian Union for his seat without being the best member of his species available. But Hillardan felt like he was playing catch up for most of his tenure in the Council, and silently wished for Councilor Anotus to still be the Salarian filling this seat. The meeting room was one of the more quiet chambers the Council had to discuss matters in private. Comfortably adorned, it was a small respite from the very public chamber where the Council handled most of it's business.

"Yes, but a problem for who?" Councilor Tevos said quietly, gazing out the floor to ceiling windows that gave a striking view of the Wards.

"What do you mean?" Hillardan asked, looking up at her.

"She means that the Geth are AI's, and they are hostile to any organic life. The Systems Alliance has come into contact with them…it will be their undoing." Councilor Valern said sounding smugly confident, his hand fell on the decanter that held a dextro wine from Palaven. Tevos looked over her shoulder and once again noted that Councilor Valern had been drinking far more than he had before the Citadel Council had to deal with the Systems Alliance. She shook her head slightly and went back to gazing out the window.

"That's a rather simple way of putting it." Tevos said.

"The Geth haven't traveled beyond the Perseus Veil in three centuries. And the Systems Alliance has had AI's within it's society for over a century. It would be illogical to assume that speaking to the Geth would destabilize them." Hillardan pointed out to his colleagues.

"Yes, but those AI are not Geth. Remember what they did to the Quarians, their very creators." Tevos said.

"The Quarians attempted to eradicate them Tevos." Hillardan replied.

"The Geth issue is only one of many besetting the Systems Alliance. They've borrowed a great deal of trouble, and you cannot ignore that Hillardan." Valern said, a scowl on his place as he swirled his wine in his goblet.

"True…but they have dealt with it before." Hillardan replied calmly, he knew that the other two Councilors viewed him as the 'junior' member simply because of the short lived nature of his species, the Salarian representative had always faced such a 'prejudice' from the Turian and Asari Councilors. But despite his desire to not be the male representing his species in the Council, Hillardan knew that he was intelligent, well schooled and was perhaps the best candidate for the position in the Council…especially considering his study of the Systems Alliance since it's arrival on the Galactic stage, and his extensive study of their history. Hillardan had been a natural choice for the Council, selected as an 'expert' in the Alliance simply because Valern and Tevos had unquestionably begun to view the Systems Alliance as the greatest threat to the Citadel.

"What, the Drow? The Quarians? The Krogan? Those issues are paltry next to the Geth." Councilor Valern said, shaking his head dismissively.

"How many paltry concerns need to come up before they become devastating ones Councilor?" Hillardan asked sharply and Councilor Tevos looked over her shoulder, but kept silent. Councilor Valern looked at the Salarian and shook his head.

"Clearly, more than that. The Systems Alliance will reach their threshold for understanding, their Parliament cannot deal with the issues being raised by the Quarians and the Drow." Valern said, his voice sounding arrogant…and Hillardan knew that the lessons of Macedyn and Shanxi had long been forgotten by the Turian Councilor.

"Their Parliament isn't dealing with them Councilor. If you have an understanding of their government you should realize that the Parliament is their Legislative body. It merely makes laws and is restricted by their Constitution. Their representatives weren't the ones that had to deal with the 'Drow Issue' if you would read the intelligence reports crossing your desk, or even watch the news, you would be aware that their Citizens sued their government to force them to cease laws they did not agree with." Hillardan said, pointing at Councilor Valern and the Turian waved his hand dismissively.

"Such a government is in and of itself madness. It is hopelessly weak and divided. That will be their undoing. Their Legislature will become deadlocked as factions work against each other, and we need not do anything to push them over the edge and let their Specieist factionalism rip them apart. It is merely a matter of time." Councilor Valern said and took a swallow of his wine.

"How long Councilor? IF you had studied their history you'd see that their system of government has it's origins in Human and Vegan traditions. Also, IF you had familiarized yourself with the briefings on Humans and Vegans beyond their military capabilities, you would see that both of their cultures had sociological and ideological divisions which makes the differences of species a paltry matter in comparison. This system worked well enough that billions of beings could disagree on every point imaginable and still live together under the same banner. Do you think we give that?" Hillardan said and Tevos slowly turned from where she stood at the window.

"The Citadel Council has governed the civilized species of the galaxy for millennia. The system has worked and worked well." Tevos said calmly, and Hillardan knew that there was something lurking under that calm. He'd read STG reports on the Matriarch and knew that she had shown a severe temper and lack of control through several meetings with foreign delegates and Systems Alliance representatives. The outburst during the Drow negotiation was theorized to have been the final straw in driving the race into the arms of the Alliance. Hillardan sighed softly and immediately began to wonder if he was making two powerful enemies…without a doubt, both Tevos and Valern felt someone…offended at the very thought their system was flawed.

_But then, they were the system, weren't they? _Hillardan thought to himself in a revelation, both the Turian and Asari were taking the Systems Alliance as a personal affront. Everything that the newcomers to the galactic stage had done had been calculated to insult and cause offense to the Citadel, but both the Councilors were taking them as _personal_ attacks, because at it's heart, the councilors _were_ the Citadel's government, three people were at the top. In the Systems Alliance, that power was distributed across hundreds of beings, all of them elected and selected to serve the people, while the Citadel Races selected their representatives to rule. Hillardan thought about something that had been stated by a Human Politician who had been a great patriot and founder of his nation…his words about how they elected their leaders were apt in describing the Alliance's way of doing things; _'We are not selecting our rulers, we are selecting our servants.'_

The Citadel too often selected it's rulers and abided by their decisions out of fear, respect, or simply apathy. The Citadel was the government, that was the government you accepted, there was no option other than that government. Accept it's decisions, accept it's rulings, accept it's instructions, or face their wrath…wrath that could come in anything ranging from economic ruin, to military invasion and anything in between. Hillardan knew that there were many governments in the galaxy…but none of them had the power of the Citadel.

"Both of you have been a part of this situation from the beginning. The Systems Alliance has radically altered the balance of power in the galaxy. Beyond our wildest notions. If I cannot freely speak my mind in this triumvirate, then I shall leave it and allow the Turians and Asari to decide matters without me." Hillardan said, his voice off handed in it's tone, but the message deadly serious, 'listen, or I will leave and you can deal with your own mess'. Valern opened his mouth to say something, but closed it and gestured his hand erratically in what the Salarian took to be surrender. Tevos sighed and nodded.

"Very well Councilor, you are a part of this as much as we are, enlighten us." Tevos said and Hillardan ignored the almost snide comment from the Asari.

"We have too long assumed the Alliance to be an enemy. Just as we have assumed the Krogan to be, and the Geth. We have had long memories of the Quarians and the Batarians. The Systems Alliance has seen fit to ignore those histories and animosities. It has reached out to species we considered 'beneath us'. The Batarians are giving up their slave trade. Slowly, yes. Painfully, yes. But they are giving it up not because the Turian Navy was resting above their planet, but because someone came to speak with them and discussed the matter, not dictated. Someone understood why it existed and understood them enough that perhaps ordering them to give up their cultural rights was not the best option. Instead they gave them a better option. The Quarians, how long have they been exiles because of this council?" Hillardan asked sharply.

"We are not the reason they had to flee their homeworld." Tevos said, the incident was before her tenure as Citadel Councilor, but she remembered it well.

"Yet this Council refused to give them any kind of aid. We exiled them from this Citadel and forced them to wander. Tell me, what does that say to the rest of the galaxy? 'We're grateful when you pay mind to us and obey our orders, but when you need something back, get out.' To me, that is what we said with that, and that disgusts me."

"They Created the Geth councilor, do not forget that." Valern said.

"And how many organics did the Geth kill after the Quarians left the Perseus Veil? How many assaults did they levy against us? How many invasions?" Hillardan asked rhetorically, all three of them knowing the answer, none.

"What is your point?" Tevos asked.

"That we assumed a foe to exist, so we created one for ourselves. How many AI's have gone rogue and threatened us? How many of them?"

"That is merely because we have been very careful and recognized the AI threat. Artificial life forms have no use for organic life. They simply do not care." Valern said.

"If they do not care, then why are they opening diplomatic relations with the Systems Alliance?"

"They make ready use of AI's in their culture. They call them Synthetic Intelligences, but they are simply AI's by any other name. The Geth are clearly showing a kinship for their fellow kind, not realizing that they are-"

"Equal citizens under Alliance law?" Hillardan said shortly, cutting off Valern before the Turian could finish his dismissive argument.

"We are aware of the facts Councilor." Tevos interjected.

"Well if 'we' are aware of them, why do I find myself sitting here arguing the point with both of you? The Systems Alliance does not need to be a threat to us, they do not need to be enemies. We can gain far more through peace and warm relations than we can through conflict." Hillardan said.

"And what of the Krogan? Would you simply have us ignore the strides that the Systems Alliance are making in bringing them to heel?" Valern snapped.

"The Alliance has done what the Citadel never thought needed doing. They actually made themselves masters of the Krogan through force, not diplomacy." Hillardan said with a sigh.

"Councilor? Please explain…" Tevos said curiously.

"Have you read the latest reports from the CDEM observation teams on Tuchanka? The Systems Alliance tried negotiation and were ignored. They tried diplomacy, they were ignored. They tried bribery and they were ignored. Their Marine and Army Garrisons on the planet were under constant assault by Krogan Clans seeking to try themselves against the new arrivals, or they simply ignored them. Krogan do not care about who occupies Tuchanka, their government is nonexistent. So the Alliance studied them, and they discovered the Krogan system of government. The biggest one gives the orders." Hillardan explained, looking to his counterparts.

"So what have they been doing?" Tevos asked, her curiosity not yet abated.

"So they dealt with Krogan the way Krogan need to be dealt with. Their Marines started challenging every Krogan clan leader they could find for dominance. Those who refused were attacked by Marine Assault units, I've seen footage of the combat, it's truly devastating when the Marines Assault a village but it's undertaken at a level of precision beyond anything I've seen…any males who resist are killed, females and children are allowed to live and are moved to more structured camps co-located with Marine Garrisons, or they are moved in with an all female Clan. Those who accepted single combat between a Marine officer and their clan leader found themselves being ruled by Alliance Marines. After enough Clans were handled, word began to spread, listen to the Alliance, be destroyed by the Alliance, or be ruled by the Alliance." Hillardan said.

"I had heard that the Alliance was claiming the Krogan were 'accepting' of Alliance rule, but I had thought they were simply propaganda statements. This is…disturbing." Valern said.

"No, it is a good thing. Do you think that the Alliance is making Krogan into a shock army to conquer the galaxy like so many wish to do? No…they're enforcing peace between the Clans and they are working to counter the affects of the Genophage. They are trying to stabilize Tuchanka and the Krogan for the first time in their history." The Salarian explained.

"Let us hope that they do not succeed." Tevos said flatly.

"Why?" Hillardan asked, somewhat shocked by the statement.

"Because the Krogan could have over run the galaxy without the Genophage limiting their numbers. Any war against them would be futile if they had their numbers back." Valern said and Tevos nodded.

"Yes Councilor, an Alliance unification of the Krogan would be an extremely dangerous turn of affairs." Tevos interjected.

"But that is only if they are our foes Councilors. Don't you see? If we continue to antagonize them, they truly will be our foes. The raids and interference being undertaken by Spectres on Council orders will simply provoke them to do more than make political deals that embarrass us." Hillardan said, exasperated.

"What are you talking about?" Tevos said, confusion dominating her features.

"Yes Councilor, what are you talking about? We've ordered our Spectres to avoid Alliance space to keep them from finding any reasons to threaten us. That order has been in affect since after the Relay 314 incident." Valern said, his own face surprised.

"Councilors, do not lie to me. I have received reports from STG commanders that a Council Spectre has been having STG units undertake exploratory and provocative actions on behalf of the council. I have also recived reports that numerous incidents of smuggling, data-theft and other actions have been undertaken in the Alliance and they have all the hallmarks of Spectre activity. If I am to be a member of this Council, I deserve a degree of honesty!" Hillardan said sharply, his voice raised in anger.

"Councilor, you have my word that the Citadel Council has given absolutely no such orders to _any _Spectre. We have given orders that the Alliance is not to be entered under _any _circumstances." Tevos said, her hands held up in a placating gesture.

"Then just who is using Salarians to provoke the Alliance?" Hillardan asked.

"Do your operatives have any information on who it might be?"

"They said it was a Turian, but they didn't have a name... They were vague on where and when they were contacted…but there was one STG unit whose logs showed extensive operations within the Alliance political structure, provoking demonstrations and investigating the results. They were all assassinated in a well coordinated action. No information was located on the assailant and all their personal data was eradicated…" Hillardan said.

"I do not like the looks of this. If we have a rogue operative…we need to get this under control quickly otherwise the Alliance may find themselves with all the provocation necessary for something dramatic. Perhaps Hillardan is right, we need to develop more…positive relations with the Alliance than we have now. If only to avoid repercussions in the future." Tevos said with a sigh, conceding that the much younger Salarian had made an excellent point…that the Alliance need not be an enemy of the Citadel.

"But what of this rogue Spectre. If they are trying to provoke something with the Alliance…or they're using their position to wage a private war against them, it will be disastrous should something come of it." Valern said grimly.

"We need to send our best, Saren. He will have to locate this threat and deal with it. Otherwise we could be facing open conflict again." Tevos said and Valern nodded.

"Saren…refresh my memory." Hillardan said.

"He's our best Hillardan, he's the best operative we have, gets results. He is the one that sorted out that mess with the Illegal AI research facility on Sidon and the connection with a Batarian financier of some kind. The data retrieved proved to be minimal, but he comported himself well, even after an Alliance officer got involved and nearly ruined the situation. An Element Zero Refinery on Camala was destroyed, but in the end the scientist running the research was eliminated…although the human investigator involved claimed that Saren set the refinery to explode, there was no evidence." Tevos explained.

"Oh yes, I remember reading that briefing, they never did find the 'artifact' that Dr. Qian was obsessed with." Hillardan said, his memory jogged.

"We discounted that due to lack of evidence. It was an unsubstantiated claim that we had no time to go running after. The Doctor was delusional and his obsession with some kind of 'ancient machine' was merely a manifestation of it." Valern said.

"Of course. Though it is reassuring to remember that the Council and the Alliance can work together on some matters. Lieutenant Anderson was the individual working with the Alliance due to a large number of Alliance civilians killed during the Blue Suns attack on the facility." Hillardan said with a nod.

"Yes but he was responsible for hundreds of deaths at Camala…not exactly the most sterling result I would say." Valern responded but didn't continue with the point.

"Spectre Saren will carry out an investigation and we shall see if we cannot end this situation before it morphs into something damning. Otherwise, we may find the Alliance willing to do more than simply make a few treaties with governments that we don't enjoy." Tevos said, and the councilors nodded in agreement.

* * *

**A/N: And there is the segue way into the next series of stories folks, a fleshed out Systems Alliance with it's myriad forces…and a few strains within. Along with a threat from without…a Spectre using his status to attempt and ferment a conflict between the Alliance and Citadel, even as the Citadel decides to attempt to reconcile themselves to the fact that they are not the only major power in the galaxy. Internal strains are within the Alliance, not enough to crack it, but enough to make things less than perfect. **

**Will the Quarians accept their new life and perhaps begin to build something new rather than dream of a past that might not ever be within reach? **

**Will the Drow truly advance their culture to one of pure equality…even in the face of legal pressure from the Alliance Government?**

**How will the Batarians and the Alliance face growing into the Attican Traverse together as partners…even as the slow progression away from Slavery takes it's toll on the Batarians civilization?**

**In the face of outside pressure…can the Alliance cope with a radical and violent Anti-alien organization called Cerberus festering within it's society?**

**And a Pirate Raid on Elysium set an Alliance officer on a manhunt across the galaxy for the being responsible**

**Just a few points for the next story, I have the Epilogue to go over and round up a few things…but I have my next story arch laid out from 2170-2183, Mass Effect: A New Cause**


	15. Epilogue

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and attention folks! This is the round up for the first section of my story. I know that there have been some ups and downs throughout the chapters, and I know that there has been a fair amount of criticism about my choices, 'wank' has been thrown around a lot for some of my choices. But I stand by them and I believe that while some of my choices could be considered 'fan service', 'fan-boyism' and 'wank' on one level…it's par for the course and I can understand where the criticisms come from. I make no apologies for my choices, primarily because my decisions for many of these actions don't stem from personal preference but for utility of the choice in best serving the story. **

**But much of this misunderstanding is because of the fact that my story goes up chapter by chapter. Readers can read one chapter at a time and comment…perhaps as a writer I shouldn't read my reviews after every chapter, no matter how exciting and interesting I find them….(After an update I do check my phone the next day at work constantly to see all the reviews and get feedback, both good and bad…) But, with chapter based reviews, you can only see the small fraction of a larger story…but that larger story is all locked up in my head. And in lieu of mind melds or power drills, it's going to be coming out chapter by chapter.**

* * *

**The Citadel, December 20****th**** 2170**

It was a modest space, not a luxurious or expansive apartment, but a small suite of rooms off the Presidium. It wasn't even registered in his name, but that didn't matter. It's resident was rarely there anyway, the bare walls and minimal furnishings bore that out, merely a soft beige carpet and cream colored walls. Of course, a place like this would command a princely sum for a tenant, probably a residence for a governmental employee or a wealthy entrepreneur. But now, it was empty except for a desk with a datalink and holo display. It was a safe house of little utility and even less concern for it's resident. He needed a place where he could be 'reached' by the Council when they needed him. But for Saren Arterius, it was as close to a home as he'd ever known since the end of the Shanxi war. Saren sat with his eyes gazing at the data display, his back to the stunning vista overlooking the Wards behind him. He was looking but not seeing, instead, his thoughts drifting.

Shanxi…so long ago…but the legacy of that war would never leave him. His mind drifted to so many good soldiers dying in a battle against the humans…against them and their Alliance. He thought of Sergeant Lilih, Nazac and the rest of his unit. He thought of all those Turian lives lost…the humiliation of being taken prisoner, and the shame of losing the conflict…and being forced into settlement by the Citadel Council. It had been hard for his pride to take that kind of insult…the insult whose pain still lingered in ever member of his people. But unlike most, he wasn't willing to simply let the past go…not when the present was so utterly hostile to the Hierarchy and the Council. He could understand the state of affairs, and he could sit down and look at the matters objectively.

Objectively, the Systems Alliance was a threat…it was the only threat to the Existence of the Citadel Council and of any kind of lawful government in the universe. So far, the Systems Alliance had fought and won a war against the Citadel…which in and of itself was not an exceptional achievement, not when the Hierarchy had been handicapped and halted before a larger conflict could be engaged. That was an issue because without a doubt it had set the stage for a wider economic struggle which he Citadel had proven reluctant to wage with any kind of effort. The conflict had now become Economic and political, not military.

Oh, military conflict was still and option, and Saren knew, _knew_ that if a full scale war were embarked on by the Hierarchy with the full support of the Asari and Salarians then the Systems Alliance would be crushed. Convincing the Council to unite and invade Alliance space would be another matter however. The most optimistic forecasts made by Turian High Command, and supported by Salarian Intelligence showed that any war against the Alliance would be waged with high casualties on both sides, and for complete invasion, would take approximately ten years of continuous conflict, _and _it would require the complete commitment of the full weight of the Hierarchy's Military Forces. And that kind of commitment included forecasted and potential conscription classes, and a mobilization of Asari and Salarian resources on par with those of the Hierarchy. The most pessimistic plans said that invasion and occupation were impossible. Ten years of high intensity warfare to invade and occupy a more technologically advanced power…all to preserve Council law…that was not something he could convince the Council to undertake, no matter how right he would be.

But now it was a struggle between technology and commerce, Alliance goods were more advanced and cheaper than comparable products made in Citadel space. Saren could see the coming recession in Citadel space moving closer with each day, and he had reports from Volus and Salarian sources that merely confirmed his suspicions…but the Council refused to enact stiffer tariffs against Alliance goods, desperate for the opportunity to import technology that could give them an advantage. Economically, the Alliance Economy was projected to be half to two thirds of the Council's combined economy, but many Volus economic experts were divided on the numbers, size wise the Alliance boasted about 100 billion beings, a much smaller number than the combined population of Citadel space…though their technological advancement inflated their economic power considerably. But the long and the short of it was that the Alliance Economy was growing, fast. Most of the 'experts' predicted the Alliance Economy would exceed that of the Citadel in forty years based on gross per-capital income and GNP.

Saren sighed heavily and brought up another display, this was the most dire of all his information. Technological contrasts and the inherent technological advantage that the Alliance held over the Citadel. That gap was not so much widening slowly as it was a chasm that the Citadel could not comprehend how to cross. Saren knew a great deal about Alliance technological developments, but the implementation of them was surprisingly diverse. Energy technology and it's myriad fields were far in advance of Citadel technology, most of it stemming from the revelation that Alliance technology did not rely on Element Zero to achieve FTL travel or create energy shielding. It was a surprisingly simple difference, but without eezo, the Alliance had focused heavily in High Energy Physics. Every bit of their higher technology came from a greater focus on 'pure' science, quantum mechanics and technologies to work around the limitations of mass, time and space.

The Spectre smiled slightly as he remembered what an Alliance Scientist had said of Element Zero… 'It's a magic goo that lets you go faster than light, make force fields, generates energy, and gives you magic powers, pretty convenient stuff. Sounds like something in a bad sci-fi movie.'

Saren shook his head slightly and the smile fell away, Citadel technology was almost exclusively based on Element Zero. Alliance technology used Element Zero to enhance their capabilities. For all practical purposes, the Citadel was facing a centuries worth of technological gap because of their magic goo. Of course, there were pieces of Alliance tech that had managed to 'find their way' into Citadel hands, but despite Saren's best efforts at orchestrating raids and industrial espionage against Alliance corporations, the Citadel was working at an inherent disadvantage. Alliance Technology worked on different principles, principles which had only been speculated at by many researchers…but concepts that were theoretical to Citadel scientists were commonly accepted information and basic concepts to Alliance researchers. He shook his head as he reviewed the reports made by various paid 'researchers' that he had…some of who were actually kidnapped Alliance scientists. Most of them were working on conversions of Alliance weapons and equipment, trying to eek out a similar level for them to work off of, but it was much akin to comparing trees to rocks.

Saren sighed softly and closed the menu, turning away from the display hologram, his thoughts drifting to a grimmer issue, the Alliance's diplomatic actions. He shook his head at that thought, the Alliance was cunning, he had to give them that…but they were simplistic and short sighted.

Reaching out to the Batarians had been a mixed bag for them. Forming close relations with an aggressive power was a bad choice, but attempting to wean them off of slavery was enough to balance out the issue. Handing over the Skyllian Verge to them had been enough of a relations windfall that Saren wasn't surprised with the decision by the Hegemony to form close ties…if you throw enough treasure at someone, they'll listen to you and do what you want. But the Alliance's plan to eradicate slavery in the Hierarchy wasn't going as well as many in the Alliance Parliament wished. Batarian resistance was strong to the Cultural erosion…even if their government was supportive of the Abolition movement, the cultural 'old guard' still held sway…and were still willing to be aggressive and uncooperative…

…even willing to finance terrorist and Terminus slavers to maintain their 'cultural identity'…or prove they 'still had a quad' to quote a Krogan euphemism.

The Quarians were little more than an annoyance to the Galaxy at large, but the Alliance had made them a significant headache by giving them membership. The Council had ignored the Quarians for the most part, and the Quarians had been content to be ignored. Now they had political voices in the Alliance and they were agitating, loudly for the Alliance to move on their homeworld and re-take it from the Geth. Saren knew that the Alliance was not foolish enough to invade, but without a doubt, that kind of agitation made the political climate in the representative Alliance Government much more acrimonious and hostile than it would have been without them. Eighteen million Quarians made for a very small number in the Alliance's 'People's House' with representation based on species population…especially when compared to Humans, Vegans or even the Drow. But a vocal minority is always the most troublesome…and their political system precluded silencing the Quarian representatives. Saren knew that the Council would enforce it's will overtly with the use of political, economic or even military force…or with the covert use of Spectres to 'deal with' problems before they became to troublesome. The Alliance was simply not willing to deal with issues…in their system it was illegal to do so. But ignoring domestic issues that could tear apart your government was folly…and the Quarians and Drow were causing far more problems than any of the more 'homogenous' members of the Alliance were put together. Humans, Vegans, Aslan and Vargr worked closely together, and the Xenopus were pacifists and very eager to 'go with the flow'. Not the Quarians, and not the Drow. They wouldn't lead to violent civil war, but the idyllic view of peaceful and wonderful harmony in a representative government would be under siege by the political infighting the two caused.

Then there were the Krogan. The Alliance had inherited a problem with their extremely aggressive wish to acquire Tuchanka. Saren suspected that the Alliance had wanted to control the Krogan and 'guide them to a better existence'. But Krogan were Krogan, and if the Alliance thought that peace, diplomacy and negotiation would work for that species, they were wrong. Even the use of Alliance Marines to overpower and control the Krogan had been useful…but bred resentment. Most Clans viewed the Alliance as interlopers, and the exact opposite of what the Alliance had wished for was beginning to happen. Instead of uniting with the Alliance, many clans were beginning to unify _against_ the Systems Alliance. Division and disunity of the Krogan had kept the peace for centuries, the nebulous hatred of the Citadel for the Genophage and the Krogan Rebellions had left the Krogan disunited and fighting one another since the Council let them be on their homeworld. But with the Alliance acquisition of Tuchanka and the relegation of the CDEM to an observation role without _any _kind of teeth, the Krogan were becoming restless. And a restless Krogan was a dangerous one. A restless united Krogan people would be a threat to the galaxy…or at least to the Alliance at first.

Idly, Saren wondered if the Alliance would have the will to do what it took to control the Krogan within their borders, or if they would simply 'quarantine' the Krogan like they had 'quarantined' the Reticulans. Saren had read the reports on those aliens, and knew that their genetic manipulation expertise would be useful if he could acquire a few of them for research. They would do well if he could set them to a useful task…but such an action would be difficult, the Alliance made it very commonly known that the Reticulans were not the kind of beings who worked well with other species. If properly…persuaded.

Saren ran his hand across his forehead, the pain of his headache was growing slowly once more as he considered things. So many difficulties that needed to be overcome…but he knew that he needed to resolve them, because unless he did, the Council would fall. Slowly Saren stood from the lone desk and data link in the room, walking to the windows and casting his gaze out across the Wards. They knew that someone was using the STG and other agents against the Alliance…the Turian shook his head slightly at the irony of it. They had selected him to find himself. It was all to easy, ironic in fact that they knew it was a _Turian_ Spectre. But he couldn't blame them, he was their best agent after all, and he was beyond reproach. The would never suspect him of doing anything to harm the Citadel…but he wasn't hurting the Citadel, he was defending it…fighting to ensure the survival of the Council in the face of the gravest threat to it's existence.

Although there were myriad threats to the Citadel…and not all of them were from within…but first he had to deal with the threat posed by the Alliance before he could confront that posed by the Reapers. If it could be confronted at all.

Saren stroked his forehead slightly, he would have to return to that massive Reaper and investigate it further. The team he had left to study the massive and ancient machine had been drawing a large amount of data lately, and he would need to inquire why they had so much spare time to study the galaxy at large…they'd seemed rather inattentive the last time he had made a personal check with the team. Saren shook his head as his headache spiked slightly. He needed a rest…but he needed to get back out to the research team and investigate the construct further.

But until then, he needed rest…too many thoughts were running through his head.

* * *

**Arcturus Station, January 2****nd**** 2071**

President Jip had handed over the Presidency of the Systems Alliance to his Vice President after the election. It was a peaceful transfer of power, swearing an oath, a handshake and a speech for the cameras in the inauguration…not that anything in the election campaign had been peaceful. A full years worth of campaigning between the five major party candidates had been brutal and unrelenting. A long running debate between them on everything from political theory, to economic policies, to favorite foods. It had been a surprising race with the Vegan President Jip stepping down after his second five year term and resolving not to run again. His Vice President Timothy Johnson had been far from a 'solid win' throughout the campaign, facing the other four candidates who made Johnson's victory a hard fought one. Olv-Dra-Prt, a Vegan with extensive experience in the political forum and Muan Issler's selected representative to the World house in Parliament had run on the Liberty Party ticket and made things very difficult. The Vargr Finrav had been the wildly popular candidate for the Populist Party, and had enjoyed a healthy lead throughout the campaign, but an economic upturn had stole the lead away in the final months. The Aslan Brak of the Economist party had commanded a solid block of the electorate, but his support had never grown enough to make him a possible victor. The final candidate had been Issani, an native Drow politician, she had been the first candidate the newly created Federalist party had run. The novelty of a new party fighting for a limited Federal government and stronger 'world's rights' had attracted some voters, but her message had failed to appeal to many of the issues which dominated the minds of voters.

But by Election night, Vice President Johnson had won with forty percent of the vote, while Senator Olv had seized twenty percent, Congressman Finrav had captured ten, Congressman Brak had taken eight percent, while Issani had surprisingly captured twelve percent, enough to ensure that her party would not be a one election phenomena. By the end, the wild results of an Alliance Election were ended, the speeches had been given and the end of the election had arrived, leaving newly elected President Johnson to be briefed in on a large number of issues which he had merely passing familiarity.

One of which was laying in a flimsplast binder in front of him, and had Army General Marcus Ollan seated before the large desk that President Johnson had recently acquired. The President looked down at the binder and recognized the code names on the front.

Alpha and Omega.

"Well General, I've been eagerly awaiting this briefing. All I've heard before now has been hushed words about secret operatives and super-soldiers." Johnson said, a smile on his lips as the Alliance General nodded.

"Well sir, you are familiar with the Alpha units, correct?" General Ollan said, his own copy of the Top Secret report open before him.

"Yes…super agents who are the best of the best, elite units." President Johnson replied.

"Correct sir, they are the overt units, excellent agents, capable of undertaking everything from counter intelligence, to information gathering, even law enforcement and policing work. There isn't a member of the Alliance who doesn't know about the Alpha units. They come into difficult situations and assist local forces in any way necessary with any issues they can, from aiding law enforcement against criminal or terrorists groups to working as military intelligence gathering outfits. They are primarily a technical organization that acts in a support role, very rarely do they undertake active actions on their own." General Ollan said.

"Multi branch, of course." The President responded.

"Yes sir, civilian and military. They are a poster group, but they do an excellent job when they are properly utilized." General Ollan said with a nod.

"But what about Omega, I've never heard of them." President Johnson asked, tapping the folder on his desk.

"Well sir, while Alpha is the poster group…Omega is more covert. To put it simply, Omega is a covert black operations group made up of units assembled for diverse skills and combat operations. They're used domestically and in foreign territory for wet work, sabotage, assassination, espionage, counter terrorism and counter insurgency among other things. They're basically the ones who do all the things that the Alpha units don't." General Ollan said and President Johnson nodded slowly.

"I had expected such an organization existed…but I was never privy to the details General. I'm not sure I approve of it, they sound very much like the Citadel's Spectres." President Johnson said darkly, the displeasure in his voice apparent.

"Well Mr. President, disapproval or not, such an organization does exist and it is extremely necessary. We cannot afford to send in Marines against every threat, we cannot invade every other world in the galaxy. By the same token, The Security Service and the Intelligence Service cannot effectively operate everywhere we need them to. Omegas are combat capable forces who operate where and when we need them to Mr. President. They are not autonomous units that have no oversight, they are paramilitary units and take their orders from High Command and this office sir." General Ollan said, his own voice firm. President Jip had a long history of being somewhat 'dove' on defense matters, and many members of High Command had reservations that his Vice President would be the same way in the office of the President.

"I understand that General, but I'm not entirely comfortable with the concept." President Johnson replied to the firm words of the General.

"Not all battles can be fought openly sir. You know that and I know that. That's why the Omegas exist. For the battles that are covert and behind the scenes. They're not a rogue unit and they don't have unlimited authority, they're a combat force, and they follow orders." General Ollan said, and President Johnson nodded.

"I understand General, are these units being utilized now?"

"Yes sir, they are, primarily the Alpha units are undertaking research into the rash of espionage incidents thought our technical and industrial sectors in the past few years. Omega units are primarily engaged with counter terrorism operations thought the Skyllian Verge and Terminus Systems operating against pirate and terrorist bases." General Ollan said simply.

"I see General. I take it the utilization of Omega units falls on my shoulders?" Johnson said with a sigh.

"Yes sir, due to the internal and external activities of those units, any missions that they are sent on must be approved by the Commander in Chief." General Ollan said.

"Alright General." President Johnson said.

"There is something else Mr. President. The Intelligence Service and Security Service had briefed you on the current Situation?"

"I've read the briefings General, and the report from Ghost Taskforce. The unified intelligence on the situation states that it's believed that there are Spectres operating against our technological infrastructure in an attempt to narrow our technological advantage." President Johnson replied.

"Yes sir, and you're aware that the intelligence also suggests that there may be forces operating within the Citadel who do not represent their political will."

"I have General, that is the primary reason that we are not going to be pushing the Council at the moment." President Johnson answered.

"Of course sir, that's a political issue, not a military one." General Ollan said with a nod.

"Thank you for the briefing General, I believe that in time, the Omega units may be necessary if the Council cannot deal with it's own internal issues. If they are unable…then I will have to deal with the issue instead." President Johnson said and rose to shake hands with General Ollan.

* * *

**A/N:**

**And there we go folks, the first section of my story is complete, and we see the stage set between the Citadel's rogue Spectre on one side, and the Alliance's counter on the other. Please, check in and read 'Mass Effect: A New History' when it comes out for the beginnings of the turmoil between the Council and the Alliance…and begin to see the origin of Sovereign's campaign against the Alliance.**


End file.
